Let Him Go
by pippin143
Summary: Elsa makes a diplomatic trip to the Southern Isles to negotiate a new peace agreement due to the "incident" Prince Hans caused between their countries. Her trip, however, ends up being a lot longer than either of them expected.
1. Gathering Storm

"What possessed the snow queen to travel so far south?" The auburn haired man said from the lined shadows.

"Your family summoned me here for a peace treaty." The icy woman replied. "They were afraid your actions ruined our political relationship."

"That would be a shame…wouldn't it?" he drawled quietly, resting the side of his head on the cold, gray wall.

"Hans, look at me."

Hans turned to her. She wore a heavy, blue robe with silver fringe that made her appear colder, if that was even possible, and her hair in a severely tight, braided up-do. She had strength surging from her being, no more that timid, newly coronated girl he met all those months ago.

"What could you possibly want from me, Elsa?" he scoffed, holding her icy stare for a fraction of a second before he had to look away.

"I wanted to tell you," she began, though it sounded like an ending, "that your family offered the people of Arendelle your head."

His blood froze and he felt his jaw clench. Would his brothers, his parents, really hate him that much? He knew his relationship with them was strained before, but for them to freely hand him over for execution? His shoulders tightened and he glared at the ground. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. It was becoming his new obsession. But as rigid and fearful as he felt, he did not let it show.

"And your decision?" he replied in a strained voice.

"Unlike you," she said, pale nostrils flared, "I do not view death as an appropriate form of punishment. But your kingdom insisted, so I'm taking you into my custody."

He pulled his hazel gaze from the floor and stared into her equally stony eyes. "And what," he sneered, his hate running her through, "will you do with me, your majesty?"

"I don't know."

xxxx

"My Queen," the duke bellowed, bursting into her cabin, "the seas are raging, many men have been washed from the deck!"

Elsa flew up the damp, rocking stairs from her royal cabin. The sky was turning in and out of itself and flashing with light. The rain came as needles, blinding her sight and searing against her skin. Nearly losing her own balance, she was thankful she had chosen to wear traveling boots under her regal robes.

"Captain!" she called, from the deck, the duke holding onto her bracing her against the mast. He handed her a rope and she twisted it around her right arm. "You must go back for the men!"

"My Queen," the captain yelled from the helm, "if we turn now the winds will knock over out vessel. They are lost!"

Another wave rolled over the deck and those left went flying with the wall of water. Elsa gagged as the salt burned her eyes and throat, but she held tight to the tope on her arm. The cord twisted painfully against her skin, but she clung to it tighter, reassured it was working.

The wave passed and she pulled herself up from the deck. She wretched as the salt water churned in her stomach and her eyes stung from what got into her eyes.

"Duke!" She coughed, stumbling to the mast as the ship rocked violently back and forth. "Duke!" But the duke was nowhere in sight. Fear gripped her heart and she felt her hands freezing to the mast. "No!" She commanded herself, pulling them away in disgust, only to lose her balance and fall again.

"Captain?!" she cried, hopelessly, searching for his burly figure at the helm. She noticed a giant lump against the quarterdeck rail. She quickly clambered up the stairs to the collapsed captain and tried to shake him awake. "Captain!"

"Where are the men?" he said groggily, looking around. "Where are all my men?!"

"I don't know!" she said, panic filling seizing her heart. She may be the queen, but she was never trained to captain a ship. She looked around, trying to see if any souls remained onboard. She only spotted three.

"Only five left!" he said, pulling himself back to the helm. "You can't sail a ship in good weather with that many."

"No, there's more." She said suddenly.

Before the captain could protest, Elsa tore down into the ships belly and down into the brig. The air was damp and salty, and a foot of water sloshed where the floor boards were supposed to be. Maneuvering around the floating barrels and crates of spoiled food, she made her way to the holding cells.

"Hans!" She coughed, searching for his cell.

"Elsa?!" his voice called amongst the din. "What's the hell is happening up there?" He stuck his arm through the bars, waving her to his cell. The ship lurched again and she went flying forward. Grabbing a swinging cell door, she remained upright and unharmed, then worked her way to Hans location.

"The ship! We've entered a huge storm and lost all our—," Hans was on the floor, his face submerged underwater. "Hans!"

She reached for the keys but found they had fallen off the hook. Desperate, she bent down and began feeling the wooden floor boards for the metal ring, but she'd never find them in the murky water.

Clenching her jaw, she turned to the lock on the cell and pointed her hands at the metal. Icy blue tendrils swirled from her finger tips and began congealing on the bolt. Frozen solid within second, she grabbed the bars of the cell in her hands and, with adrenaline powered force, kicked the door. The frozen bolt shattered upon her second blow and she swung it open.

Running to Hans she turned him over, and anxiously attempted to shake him awake. His hand shot from the water and grabbed her throat.

"Elsa," he sneered through gritted teeth as he slammed her against the wall. His hand was tight on her windpipe and she gagged, clutching at his arm and unleashing her icy powers. Chunks of frost appeared on his soiled white shirt and in a panicked moment he recoiled from her and let her go.

Elsa pushed herself from the wall and let two icicles form in her hands. "Touch me again, She said, breath shaky but dangerous, "and I will end you."

Hans slowly put up his hands into a defensive position, gently waving them as if he were shushing a tantrum throwing child. "I think," he said slowly, with a sly grin and cocked brow, "It would be in our best interest to work together. Truce?" He stuck out a hand for a shake.

Elsa brushed past it and stalked down the cell hall. "The ship's going under," she said trusting he was following, "So I suggest you help us unless you want to go with it."


	2. Rogue Wave

Hans followed the drenched queen through the ship's interior and out onto the top deck. The situation revolted him, but if what Elsa said was true, he had little choice but to help.

His arm still stung painfully from where she froze him. It was like someone had pressed dry ice against his skin. But he grudgingly accepted it. He had been the one to attack first. Right now he had to focus on staying alive, and staying alive meant working with Elsa. Escape would come later.

"Captain!" Elsa called as they appeared on the rocking, slippery deck. "I've got you another crewman!" Hans looked up at the sky. The black clouds swirled ferociously and lightening sparked dangerously close to the mast. He remembered the many times he voyaged with the Southern Isle's royal navy. Diplomatic missions, political visits, whatever, anything to get away from the constant scrutiny of his parents and comparison to his brothers.

"Evening, captain!" Hans called to the burly man at the helm. "Nice summer weather we're having. What would you like for me to do?"

"You, climb up the rigging and help the sailors secure and change the sails!" The captain called, spinning the wheel mercilessly to the right to prevent the ship from capsizing.

Hans looked up the mast. Ropes were snagged, the sails were ripped, and pulleys were completely unlatched and some had fallen off. It was only a matter of time until the entire thing snapped.

"Don't think I'll be able to make any difference," he said, rolling up his drenched cotton sleeves and heading to the mast. "But, her royal ice-ness might. Can't you just calm the storm?"

"It doesn't work like that!" She called back as he began climbing up the rigging. The boat lurched again and he desperately clung to the soggy ropes.

"I made that storm last time," she continued as the boat righted itself. "This is all mother nature's doing!"

"Well, you could at least try something," he yelled pointlessly. There was no way they could carry on the argument with the storm raging the way it was. "Or are you just going to fall on the ship deck in despair like you did back in Arendelle?"

Joining the remaining sailors, he began helping to secure the snagged and snapped ropes back to their pegs. If they regarded him hostility, Hans did not notice. Prisoner or not, they were all in this death voyage together.

XXX

Elsa clung to the rail for support as the ship violently tossed against the waves. Though the roaring of the ocean and storm were near deafening, the disowned prince's spiteful words still reached her ears. She twisted her face in frustration and disgust. He regarded her still as the helpless coward who fled from her problems.

No. She was not that girl anymore.

Suddenly, a solid wave collided diagonally against the front of the ship, and before the water washed over her, Elsa heard a sickening, wooden snap.

Flung painfully against the quarterdeck stairs, she grabbed the rail and pulled her cold, aching body up. She winced and grabbed her side. She was no doctor, but it felt like she'd bruised or broken some ribs.

As her mind cleared from dizziness, she realized the front of the ship was gone.

"Captain, the prow!" She yelled, turning back to the burly, yet slightly dazed, man at the helm. But the man was nowhere in sight.

"Captain!?" She called desperately, tears filling her eyes. But there was no time to look for him. The ship was going to sink in a matter of seconds if she didn't do something.

Sliding across the increasingly sloping deck, Elsa made it to the edge of the splintered wood. Wincing slightly, she raised her trembling hands and with fear driven adrenaline, sent forth the electric blue tendrils of liquescent ice. Pulling the energy from both herself and the water around her, she drove the ice against the jagged wood.

Dropping to her knees and pushing outward, she stretched the sheet of ice and formed a new, frozen hull, and rising with a scooping motion, she pulled the sheet upward to round the new end of the boat. Then, with a fluid motion, she jabbed a hand of pointed fingers forward and from the ice shot a spiked prow.

With a huff of exhaustion, she collapsed to the deck. The ship was no longer sinking. It was going to be okay.

But the captain…

Tears filled her eyes again. He was such a good, brave man. All the men they'd lost died because of her. They put their lives in danger to serve her, and as their ruler she was supposed to be able to protect them. But all she could do was create ice sculptures and cool a summer day. How was she supposed to become a strong, political, trustworthy leader if she didn't even have faith in herself?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, stomach dropping realization. If the captain was gone, who was steering the ship?

She turned to see Hans at the helm.

"Hans?!" She nearly choked on the word. She didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. On one hand, Arendelle's number one public enemy had control of the royal ship, but on the other hand their chance of survival had just increased tenfold.

Hans turned the wheel violently, clothes and hair dark and heavy from the torrents of rain. He looked dangerous, like a pirate stealing a ship. The snow queen approached him slowly out of both fatigue and apprehension.

"What are you doing?" She asked accusingly, eyebrows nearly as high as her voice.

"Sailing." He replied flatly, as he turned the wheel hard to the left in order to ride another colossal wave. "What are you doing?"

"I just fixed _my _ship," she replied angrily, viciously gesturing towards the new, ice hull. "Which it appears you are now trying to steal."

"The captain," he said venomously, letting go of the helm. "Was washed overboard in the last wave. So unless you have someone more qualified…"

The wheel spun out of control, whizzing so fast Elsa feared it would snap. The ship was already starting to teeter to the side, and Elsa had to grab the rail to prevent herself from falling in the churning sea.

"Okay, okay!" She cried, "Just sail the damn ship!"

He grabbed the wheel's base and, with a massive turn, righted the boat's position.

As the world settled once again, Elsa released her death grip from the rail and resisted the urge to shift it the prince's neck.

But then she saw it. A rouge wave.

The translucent black wall peaked high above the ship, which itself was about ten meters. This wave was over double that.

Han's stopped manning the helm. The wheel was calm this time as their course was pulled straight forward, into the hole of the wave. Like the queen, he stood motionless with his mouth agape and watched the inevitable collision, their death sentence, approach.

The monster seemed to soak up the surrounding waves, magnifying is weight and power. The flashing lightening lit up its inside, and the horror Elsa felt sank deep within her as she realized the wave was like a giant mouth. The ship was about to be swallowed into the never satisfied hole of the sea.

She stared as the behemoth arched above them, suspended timelessly in the sky, and tasted the spray that rained from above. She could not pull herself away. There was no point in trying to escape. Even if she tried to freeze it, the power behind the wave would force its way through. Her ice chunks would only do more damage.

Just like her parents, their ship would be lost forever at the bottom of the North Sea.

And as quickly as it had manifested, the wave began to fall. Cascading downward, the force of the wave sucked all the air from underneath it. Elsa clenched her jaw and felt warm tears run down her face, the last warmth she'd ever feel, and prayed her sister would forgive her for abandoning her once again.

But then she felt something warm wrap around her. Just as she was about to let herself fall into death's comforting embrace, she felt her feet fly off the deck.

Opening her eyes in the sudden lurch, she watched as she and Hans fell from the side of the doomed boat and into the freezing, unforgiving ocean below.


	3. The North Sea

Hans's body crashed through the churning surface and into the darkness of the North Sea. The initial plunge happened so fast that his body did not have time to react to the cold, but as he felt himself sink, a thousand needles began to dance along his skin. The icy seawater was so extreme he couldn't tell if it was the temperature of fire or dry ice.

Gasping reflexively, the brackish liquid filled his mouth and seared his senses. He had to get out of the water. Opening his eyes to the stinging sea, he saw flashes of light above, momentarily lighting the eerily dark water. The sea stirred violently all around him, and he watched in horror as the splintered boat sank down, wood groaning ominously in the quiet depths, paired only with the muffled sound of the incessant thunder. He saw the bodies of several other crewmen drifting lifelessly above, some struggling back to the surface.

Quickly righting his sinking body, he began to swim up when he realized his arms still held the snow queen. Recoiling, he let her go and watched as her unconscious form drifted down and away from his.

He was about to swim away when he felt the sudden urge to be a hero. Sighing at his innate princely-ness, letting a stream of precious silver bubbles rain from his nose, he reached down and hooked his left hand under her arm. Kicking and reaching with his right hand, he swam their way towards the surface and grabbed hold of a broken mast.

The water rose and fell violently all around them, and he gingerly slung Elsa's body across the mast. She winced and began to cough in pain.

"What—?" she choked, wincing again and clutching her side. She hung lazily onto the wood with one arm and felt her ribs with the other. Her face seemed vague in the flashing light.

"Stop that!" Hans growled, grabbing her prodding hand and forcing it back to the mast they clung to. "You still with me, your highness? You got to hang on tight. I'm not fishing you out again."

"I—what is happening?" she managed, wincing again as the wooden log rode the dangerously high waves. They submerged under water before Hans could reply.

Resurfacing, they coughed painfully from the salt, gripping the lifeline tighter than before. Hans watched as Elsa looked around, her eyes growing wide as she saw the remaining pieces of her splintered ship.

"No!" she cried, warm tears streaking her cold face.

"No use crying about it," Hans barked, resting his chin on the grainy wood. "Be glad you're still alive. At least for now."

"How can you be so callus?" she yelled, blue eyes hard and hateful. "How many of my men are dead, lost at sea?"

"We're lost at sea if you hadn't—!"

"It is my fault! I am their queen, they trusted me with their lives and I failed them."

"No one rules the weather," Hans muttered, turning his face from her and resting it on the other side. "And no one expects you too. Titles only get you so far." The cold water was beginning to get to him now, crawling on his skin and freezing him to the bone. If he didn't die from the waves he would have to resign with freezing to death.

For the hundredth time he envied Elsa's powers.

Suddenly he heard a faint yell amongst the crashing sea and sky. He lifted his head up, as did Elsa, and began to look for its source.

"Help!" The desperate voice called from the flashing dark waters around them.

"One of my crew!" Elsa exclaimed pushing herself back from the driftwood. "He survived! I need to—!" She winced again and grabbed hold of her chest.

"I'm no doctor, but you seem to have damaged your ribs." Hans said derisively, rolling his eyes. "You're in no condition to swim, let alone go to the poor soul's rescue."

"Then you go!" she commanded, staring at him firmly.

Hans nearly laughed, appalled by the suggestion. "Risk my life for a man, who knows where, that'll will just add more weight to our log here? He's not my subject."

"What kind of person are you?" she seethed, letting go of the wood again to perform the rescue herself.

"Wait—!" he called, grabbing hold of her splashing arm before the rolling waves pulled her out of reach. "I'll go. If I'm lucky the storms will kill me before I freeze to death."

And with that he let go on the drift wood and flung himself back into the raging sea.

Swimming away from the wood and doing his best to stay above the waves, he called out to the surviving crewman.

"Help! Oh lord, help!" the crewman called back, the words nearly drowning in the storm's chaos.

Hans treaded, looking in the direction the voice seemed to come from. In the black, night waters he saw at white body struggling against the waves.

"Try to stay there!" he called, swimming fast in that direction. "I'm coming!"

The man did all he could to stay above the water. He bobbed under and spluttered back up a few times, but he managed to not drift too far.

Arms tired and breathing heavily, Hans sighed with relief when he finally reached the man.

Hans grabbed the man's arm and slung in around his neck. Then, with a resurgence of power brought on by desperation to live, he kicked and swam back in the direction he came.

"A little help swimming, sailor?" Hans spit angrily as he bobbed under the man's weight.

"I can't!" the man wailed pathetically, wiggling his arms and legs uselessly in an attempt to do so.

"That's bloody great. Why the hell did you become a sailor?"

"I can swim!" the man yelled defiantly, then choked on a mouthful of water. "It's my leg," he managed after a coughing fit, "I think it's busted!"

"Great." Hans brooded, blowing bubbles of curse words into the sea foam. "Another invalid to ride the mast with. Speaking of invalids," he searched the dark, raging water looking for the driftwood and the passenger queen, "Elsa?! Where are you?"

"Her majesty is alive!?" the man spluttered, seemingly more overjoyed by the fact his queen had survived than himself. Hans let him dunk under the water in hopes he'd shut up.

A crystal blue light shot through the pouring rain like a signal flare. Making a slight half turn, he redirected his stroke and swam towards the blue tendrils. It seemed like forever until he reached the driftwood, and the cold was really starting to get to him.

Hauling the man towards the splintered mast, he selfishly grabbed hold of its middle and wrapped his rigid arms around it with a coughing sigh. The cold reached into his bones, making his limbs shake and slow moving. His entire body felt tight and he dug his nails into the soft wood, unsure of how much longer he'd be able to securely hold on.

"Your highness!" the man coughed, spluttering and trying to maneuvered around Hans to reach his queen. Hans elbowed him roughly, keeping him in place. "I'm so relieved you are alight!"

"As I am for you!" She replied with genuine relief. "Do you know if there are any more survivors? The Captain, or the Duke?"

"We're not alright." Hans muttered closing his eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed were caught in the middle of a storm _in the middle _of the North Sea."

The two Arendelles ignored him, or perhaps his pessimistic words were lost in the tempest. Whatever, he huffed, let them have their fleeting moment of relief.

"No, your highness, I saw no others. Please forgive us for failing you!" the man continued, sounding on the verge of tears, as did the queen. Hans looked at him with a sneer. Seeing him fully for the first time he realized he wasn't much more than a boy.

"Don't blame yourself," Hans said gruffly, trying his best to drop the sneer, "The failure was a team effort."

"I swear to you, my queen," the crewman continued, bowing his head to the point his nose dipped in the water, "I will ensure your safety, even if it means I die!"

"Well, it looks like you'll get your wish."

"Would you shut up!?" Elsa yelled, whacking Hans on the head with her hand. "Don't listen to him, and don't talk like that. Your life, all of our lives, are equally precious. Yours too Hans. We are going to survive. Now instead prematurely dooming ourselves, let's try to figure out a way to endure this storm."

"Aye, my Queen!" Agust answered loyally. He sighed, rolling his eyes. But it was not like cooperating with the Arendelles would cause him anymore harm. Nodding in agreement, Hans turned toward Elsa, ready to help in any way possible.

"What's your name, sailor?" Elsa asked kindly, giving the man a small smile through the pain and grave situation.

"Agust, your majesty!" he replied, attempting a salute but quickly clutching to the wood as he began to slip off. "Petty officer Agust Kling!"

"Nice to meet you, Agust," Hans replied dryly, "My name is Prince Hans, well, former Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."

"Wait," Agust blurted, blinking saltwater from his eyes, "You're Hans? The prisoner, the one who tried to kill the royal family and steal Arendelle's throne?!"

Hans smiled at the man's disgust and thanked the night and storm for hiding his face for so long. The man's expression was priceless. "Well, when you put it that way—"

"Your majesty," Agust snarled, the boyish fear fading from his face, "this man cannot be trusted! He should be removed immediately from this vessel!"

"Now wait a minute," Hans contended, "I saved _both _of your lives? Or have you forgotten? And, if you're so keen to point out the obvious, let me remind you that _neither of you are fit to swim_. If I wanted, I could push the lot of you off and have the mast for myself."

"Stop!" Elsa commanded, then looking to Agust, "Both of you. We can't afford to be fighting right now. I say we ride out the storm. But not like this. The water is freezing, we'll be dead in an hour if we don't get out of it."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Hans barked, once again remembering the cold that chilled his marrow. It had become so painful that his body had gone numb, and it was only a matter of minutes until it completely shut down. "Build a raft?"

"Of sorts."


	4. A Cold Night

The chunk of ice Elsa called a boat did little to protect Hans and Agust from the cold, but at least they were out of the water. The two men huddled too close for comfort, doing their best to stay warm. Hans's hands and feet ached with numbness and were difficult to move. He blinked forcefully, trying to stay focused, and continued rubbing his arms to get his blood circulating. He began to understand just how cruel letting Anna freeze to death was.

Anna froze...

"Elsa..." He chattered through clenched teeth. The queen looked at him tiredly. She was perched at the end of what could be considered the ice boat's bow, bedraggled and dripping with water like the rest of them but less phased by the extreme cold. At least it wasn't winter, Hans sighed, otherwise they'd already be dead.

She looked at him and silently inclined her head. Her hair was pulled out of and tangled painfully from the regal crown-braid she had it pinned in, and her dark blue makeup had washed down her face, making her pale skin seem almost ghoulish in the light. He swallowed, trying to push the images of sirens and banshees from his mind.

"Elsa," he continued with a shuddering breath. "The petty officer and I are going to freeze to death before the night is over unless we get warm."

"Which I'm the complete opposite of, if you haven't noticed." She replied guiltily, shifting farther away.

"I was thinking..." He began carefully. "That you would be able to pull the cold from us, just like you did when Anna froze..."

"No thanks to you!" Agust growled against him. Though the boy was angry, his face failed to voice the emotion, remaining slack and numb in the cold. His eyes were half closed and speech beginning to slur.

"Yeah, no thanks to me." Hans restated dryly. He didn't have the energy to protest there was nothing he could have done for the flighty princess. He didn't really love her. Was that really a crime? Okay, perhaps he could have tried to warm her up and not locked her in a room to die in order to inherit the kingdom, but there was no changing the past. "But my point is she survived because you pulled the cold from her."

"I-I don't know," she whispered, looking at her hands in thought. "Anna was frozen by my power, so that was why I could reverse it. Something was added to her and I simply removed it. This..." She glanced at them nervously. "This could be different. I could kill you."

"Well it's not like we're going live through this anyway."

"Why do you have to talk like that?!" She cried running her hands through her ratty hair. "Why do you have to talk like that...?"

"Look," he replied sternly, not interested in letting her succumb to hysterics. He'd seen what she could do when she lost control. "If you're concerned about bloodying your hands, just remember I told you to do this. I'm ordering you to do this!"

"You have no right—!" Hans pushed the quaking boy aside, cutting him off and giving Elsa room to do what he was demanding.

"Pull the cold from my body!" He commanded. "If it kills me then don't do it to Agust and just shove me overboard. I'm not going to sit here and wait for death. You're doing this!"

"Hans," she replied frantically, clutching her hands to her chest, "I don't even know how! I did this once and only because I was so overcome with emotion...!" She looked down, blinking back frustrated tears. Then, with a shaking breath, her cobalt eyes flicked back to him. They were hard and determine, like the day he and the Weselton boys cornered her in that ice palace. But instead of the need to kill, they held the determination to succeed.

XXX

Elsa stared at her shaking hands, heart crawling with fear as frost began to spread over them. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She was the snow queen. Conqueror and savior of Arendelle. The incarnation of ice and snow. She had mastered these fears. She was in control. She was in control...

Her fists clenched, the ice on her skin cracking away, and shot a determine glare at the brash prince.

"Agust," she said in a low voice. "Move away from him, and frankly from me if you can. I'm not sure how this is going to work."

"What-what are you going to try to do my queen?" He stammered scooting across the floor of the rocking ice boat.

"I'm trying...I'm going to summon the cold from Hans's body and channel it into mine."

"And will that work?" Agust asked, somewhat hopefully, glancing at his own shivering body.

"Agust," Hans said through grinding teeth. "You're not helping." He leaned against the side of the small boat, digging his nails into the ice and braced for whatever was about to come.

Elsa stood slowly, clenching her jaw as her broken ribs throbbed and tears threatened to prick in her eyes. She took a shuddering breath, narrowed her eyes, and stuck her palms towards the castaway prince.

She summoned the power in her body, sensing the cold of the world around them, and called for it to join her arsenal of ice.

Hans grimaced, his body stiffening as the magic did its course. Elsa's concentrated face broke into a smile as a starry blue color glowed on his skin. His face twisted in pain and his knuckles clenched the boat harder, but he didn't call for her to stop. With a deep breath, Elsa lifted the blue light from his skin and it poured into a single, bright tendril that snaked towards her hands. Her palms lit up whiter than sunlight on snow and the congealed energy disappeared inside her.

Her heart fluttered as the foreign power entered her body, swelling with new strength that she hadn't possessed. She always had used her own power, always returned her own power. This...this was like drinking in the power of the North Sea. It was invigorating.

As the last of the blue energy seeped into her palms, she jumped back in glee, clenching her fist greedily lest the new power escape.

"It worked!" She sang, almost dancing in joy. She calmed herself down as the boat began to rock. "It worked. And I feel so strong. I feel—!" She suddenly realized she was no longer in pain. "My side." She felt her ribs, no longer shifting sickeningly inside of her. "It's healed! It's—!"

"Your highness!" Agust's alarmed voice called her back to reality.

She stopped her celebration, finding the boy hesitantly shaking an unconscious Hans.

XXX

"Hans! Hans wake up!" Elsa pleaded, shaking him violently. He couldn't die, not because of her. To hell with what he said, if he died it was her fault. His skin was clammy and red, and alarmingly warm to touch. She'd taken too much cold from him.

His blotchy face twisted and a murmur of discomfort escaped his parted lips.

"What's wrong with him?" Elsa panicked, warily propping his limp body in the corner of the boat.

"Hyper-hyperthermia, your majesty!" Agust coughed spitefully, seeming to wish he was in Han's boots. "In trying to expel the hypothermia, you gave him the polar opposite! It happens to sailors a lot, but's rare on these waters."

"Is it bad?" She asked desperately, pushing his now sweat dripping hair from his face. "Will he be okay? Agust, stop that!"

She slapped the young man whose hands had somehow found their way up Hans's shirt. "I'm sorry!" He spluttered painfully. "I'm just so cold, and he's burning up!"

"Powers above us..." She begged, running her hands through her messy hair. "Hans, please wake up."

"Nngh..." Hans replied with a throaty gurgle. His eyes fluttered open and he lazily looked around, unfocused. "Cold..." He shuddered. "Water..." He struggled up into a sitting position and made to throw himself overboard.

"No!" She shouted, pulling him back in. "That's salt water, it'll only make it worse. And you're burning up..." Then an idea sparked and she quickly formed a snowball in her hands. She put patches of it onto Hans's swelling body, and then made another that she worked into his swelled, rubbery hands.

"Start to drink the water when it melts!" She ordered with new energy from brilliance of her plan. Hans did as she said and quickly begged for more.

"Your majesty," Agust chattered from where he sat, curled tightly for warmth. "If you c-could try again?"

"Try again?" She repeated, looking from Hans's red body to Agust's blue. "You see what he's going through! I nearly killed him!"

"Nearly." He hissed, shoving his frozen fingers under his arms. "Don't go as long this time. And even if you do, if he can take it I know I can."

Elsa bit her lip in hesitation, looking warily at her hands. Her hands that hurt others. She exhaled the apprehension. She could do this. She would try again.

This time she kneeled by and grasped Agust's hands in hers. His hands were so cold... She swallowed and, as before, reached for the North Sea's chilling power and beckoned it to join her own.

Agust's eyes grew wide and his mouth parted, dilating as the magic rushed from his body. She saw in the reflection of his eyes the startling blue of her own. They were glowing like stars. Agust gasped, a dry sound, and she quickly broke the connection. The blue tendrils that connected their hands shattered and what was left seeped back into his pours. She tried to ignore the unsatisfied feeling in her soul.

"Are you alright?" She asked with a touch of fear, gently placing her hands on his head to bring his eyes to hers.

He took a staggering breath, but shook his head up and down. She breathed a sigh of relief and conjured up a snowball for him to melt and drink from as well.

"Elsa?"

She turned towards the pitiful croak that came from Hans. He had a dazed expression on his face, but the swelling seemed to be going down. The only good this blasted cold was good for—breaking fevers.

"My feel bad…" he mumbled, gesturing at himself sloppily. Then he threw up.

This was going to be a stressful voyage.


	5. Castaways

"Hey, wake up!"

Hans shifted as he painfully became aware of his stiff body. Everything hurt and though his body was raw with heat, he felt unbearably cold. Struggling to open his eyes, he felt sleep rise from him like a heavy weight and took a reassuring breath of the brisk, sea air. He blinked at the harsh daylight and grimaced. No more sleep today.

"Come on, we need to get out!"

He tried to push himself up, body soaked in both sea spray and sweat, and gripped the side of the slick, ice boat. He tried to focus on his surroundings and remember how he got here. The sky was a sickly gray just bright enough to strain the eyes, and the water was about forty-nine shades darker, churning calmly in the aftermath of the night's storm. The storm. There had been a terrible storm, and now he was adrift in the ocean with his favorite ice queen. And that hot-headed sailor. But that didn't explain why he felt so awful.

He then promptly turned around and threw up over the side.

Oh yeah. He nearly died of heat stroke.

"Hey, come on prince, it's time to go."

A pair of rough hands grabbed him under his arms and tried to pull him to his feet. He mumbled intelligibly in protest, not completely sure of what he wanted to say. The motion made him want to throw up again and he attempted to wiggle out of the person's grip, desiring to lie back down. The person wobbled unsteadily, grunting in pain under Hans's near-dead weight, and guided him to the side of the boat.

"Be careful, Agust!"

"Don't worry, I won't drop him." Agust grimaced, gingerly securing his grip on Hans. "I want out of his debt as soon as possible."

"Ready, Agust? It's going to be a cold swim."

"Aye." Agust took a ragged breath that sickly rumbled against Hans's body. "Let's get this over with." The boat rocked violently as they all moved to one side.

Hans strained his ringing ears, trying to make sense of the puzzle-like dialogue. Get out…time to go….cold swim…

"Wait—!" He yelped, head clearing as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him. His remaining words were choked from existence, for that was exactly what happened.

"What—why—oh lords!" he spluttered, flailing his limbs as he, along with the stoic crewman bobbed up for air. For some reason, he and his shipmates were back in the freezing sea.

"Looks like someone is finally awake." Agust chattered, loosening Hans's deathlike grip.

The prince, like some poor cat, clung to the young man, unaware and slightly deranged from the sudden cold and illness. He began to panic, scrambling back for drifting boat.

"Hey! Hans, look at me!"

He ceased struggling and spun towards the voice. Elsa bobbed in the water, hair a wild mess of tangles and salt crust, purple makeup dripping down her cheeks like war paint, thin brows obtusely creased, and teeth bared under chapped, frost burnt lips.

He swallowed, regaining his faculties. She was terrifying, like some devilish mermaid or sea witch come to claim his corrupt soul.

"We are swimming," she pointed dramatically behind them, "to that island cluster. So pull yourself together and quit drowning Agust! He's got a lame leg remember?"

"I wouldn't say lame, your highness." The boy mumbled, face reddening as he struggled to tread under their combined weight.

"Ah—yes." Hans stammered, unhooking one arm from the nearly submerged lad. He took a breath, calming his stomach and focused on the task at hand. The cold water was just as numbing as last night, but at least this time it served as a wake-up call. He felt his tired mind and limbs begin to rejuvenate.

The island cluster, a mass of dark green, hazy lumps in the sea, was about a mile swim. Elsa created ice boards that they held onto as they kicked, making the excursion less exhausting and easier to fight the tides. It was hard to do in their weakened state, but the three vigilant castaways managed the distance in less than an hour.

Finally, they dragged themselves onto the rocky shore, coughing and shivering from the cold sea water. The sun powered through the thin layer of clouds, casting faint shadows on the dark rocks and warming their frozen skins. They each, in their own turn, collapsed onto the earth with justifiably dramatic sighs as exhaustion and relief took hold.

Hans wearily pulled the heavy, drenched shirt off his aching body and flung it behind, caring little about where it landed. Bare backed, he lied down on the gravelly beach, barely feeling the sharp rock cut into skin. He sighed again as the weak sun his kissed his pale, sheen skin and he closed his eyes.

As they regained their breath, he asked the angry question that had manifested an hour earlier during their impromptu swim. "Why, my dear Arendelles, did we _swim _to shore as opposed to taking the nice, little boat?"

Elsa sighed and brought her knees to her chest. Her ragged, drenched dress clung to her body and was smeared with salt residue and mud. "If you forgot, that nice little boat happened to be made of ice." She sighed again, evidently too tired to explain.

"The queen spent the entire night trying to figure out what to do!" Agust snapped, defending the weary woman. "She tried everything. Making oars, using her power to propel the raft. Nothing worked. Ice doesn't work well against ice. The oars kept freezing to and cracking the raft, and trying to propel the boat nearly capsized it and drained her even further. When we saw this archipelago, and realized the sea was carrying us parallel to it, we made the choice to swim. So stop complaining and start showing her the thanks, and frankly respect, she deserves!"

Hans face went slack and his mouth feel open, utterly taken aback by the boy's sudden, impassioned speech. The boy stared at him incredulously, lip curing on his severely freckled face which had grown nearly as red as his hair. As he continued to glare, Hans realized he expected an apology.

For the first time since they started this drastic voyage, Hans felt guilty for his indifference and ingratitude. He felt a pit form in his stomach and his face grew warm, though the display of shame was hidden due to his already frost burnt cheeks.

He looked at Elsa, the tired, bedraggled queen who had gone to great lengths to save him. Her chin was rested on her knees, eyes closed, and lips chapped and puffed. She could've let him die, several times in fact, lasat night. She should've. He'd been so quick to try to kill her and Anna all those months ago, and he'd almost done it twice on her royal boat. The only reason he'd saved her was because he was scared to be alone.

But Elsa…

She locked herself away for years just to protect her family, she ran away at the coronation to protect the kingdom, and now she spent all her energy trying to rebuild it and its people from her good-intentioned neglect. The only thing she was scared of now was failing her kingdom. She would do whatever it took to save them.

Elsa looked out for everyone. He only looked out for himself.

With downcast eyes, he said into the whistling, shore wind, "Thank you for saving me."

XXX

Elsa's piercing blue eyes flicked open as the uncharacteristic words left the callous man's mouth. She turned to him, expression quizzical as she tried to interpret what he said. His auburn head was turned from her, nose sloping to the earth and floppy locks dripping over his solemn face. His eyes were locked on the ground, unable to rise to hers.

She blinked, not believing the sullen visage was real. The man who always wore a sly smile or a sneer, the man who cared about no one but himself, the man who would rather die than be placed in her debt. This had to be another game of his, a mean to a selfish end. But he sounded so sincere and looked so…

She stood up, unsteady under the weight of her soaked dress, and pushed the intentions of Hans from her mind. She chose to pretend she hadn't heard or seen this side of him. If he wasn't sincere he would drop the act, and if he was…it had come far too late to deserve her acknowledgement.

"Well, we're all here," she began, trudging uncomfortably in the heavy skirting, "so let's make our way inland. There has to be a settlement somewhere. Or on one of them."

"Aye, your majesty!" Agust said with zeal, jumping up to follow her and yelping suddenly as he put weight onto his forgotten break.

"Here, let's take care of that." She soothed, conjuring up two ice slates the length of his thigh. "It won't be as good as a wooden splint, but it'll have to do for now." She earnestly held the ice splint out to him, but then hesitantly pulled back as she wondered how they would secure it. Thrusting them into his arms, she and bent down and began tearing at the expensive lining at the end of her filthy dress. She worked a tear into the already damaged hem, but the heavy, blue velvet material proved to be thicker than she thought.

"Come on, dammit!" she cursed, angrily ripping at the stubborn material.

"Allow me." Hans appeared by her side, grabbed the snagged hem, and unscrupulously tore it off. It just happened he tore it all the way up her thigh.

"Stop!" she snapped, frantically, batting his hands away. He snapped the shredded hem off and handed the now sturdy, velvet rope to the limping sailor. Agust took it gingerly, face red and averting his eyes from the livid queen.

"Why, why did you!?" Elsa fumed, face reddened as she examined the giant slit in her dress, exposing her petticoat and under skirting beneath. "You—you did that on purpose!"

"Oh, stuff it." Hans growled, a roguish smile playing on his lips. "It's no more revealing than that crystal dress you pranced around in several months ago. Now patch yourselves up and let's get moving. I'm starving and feel like death." He draped his own ripped shirt over his shoulder, taking care to send a spray of water on them, and walked away.

She fumed, glancing at the hasty tears with embarrassment. Looks like the Hans she knew was back.


	6. Hasen

**Sorry for the wait guys! Have a few other stories I'm working on and to be honest I hadn't planned what to do with them upon arriving on the island. But I spent a good hour last night researching and plotting the rest of it out until the end! Enjoy! I'm excited for you guys to read what is to come hehe~**

* * *

Elsa lied in the prickly beach grass, too tired to care that dozens of bugs were most likely crawling on her, and too hungry to bring herself to move. She swallowed, mouth dry and stomach hollow, and tried not to dwell on the fact they had no idea where they were.

And Hans had all together disappeared.

He'd scaled rocky coast and disappeared into the wild forest, evidently expecting the two of them to follow. Elsa hadn't granted him the satisfaction. Her stomach growled and she felt a new wave of dizziness wash over her. She couldn't have followed if she'd wanted to. The night had been long and treacherous, robbing her of rest, and nearly killing the two men had kept her up all night to monitor their recovery. She was worn out, sleep deprived, and hungry. She wasn't going anywhere.

But she couldn't help but wonder where Hans had gone to. He'd been gone for a long time, and she was beginning to fear he wasn't coming back. She bit her lip, both embarrassed and disgusted by her concern. She had more pressing things to worry about than the fate of that bullheaded prince.

Despite her loathing, it was still hard to suppress the urge to ask the young sailor how long it had been since Hans abandoned them.

Agust sat nearby, fiddling with some branches, trying to make himself a more durable splint and pair of crutches, and incessantly mumbling reassurances to the exhausted queen.

"Don't worry, your majesty," he promised for the hundredth, "when night falls I'll figure out where we are judging by the stars."

"Agust." She said through clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes shut and trying her best not to snap at the loyal boy. "You don't have your sextant, we have no idea where we are, and from the looks of things we are on an _island_. We aren't going anywhere."

"I—know, your majesty," he mumbled, putting the sticks down and looking at his calloused hands. "But I'm not going to give up. It's fallen to me to ensure you're safely escorted back to Arendelle. I'd die before giving up on my duty."

"No one doubts that, believe me."

Elsa's eyes flew open at the familiar voice. Scrambling to her knees, she peered over the tall, scraggy grass just in time to see the man's auburn head emerge from the dark trees. He was still shirtless, pale skin sporting a sporadic array of red lines, with his shirt slung over his shoulder like a sack.

"The prodigal returns." Agust growled, brashly throwing the pieces of yet another snapped stick into the blowing grass.

Hans hopped down from the rocks above, landing with a weighty thud in the grainy sand. He let the shirt drop to the ground. With a soft thump, it unfolded, revealing a very dead hare within its dirty folds.

The two Arendelles recoiled at first, startled by the mass of the fur and beady face, but then looked up at Hans, who wore a smug, triumphant smile on his face.

"You caught this?" Elsa asked, edging closer to the dead hare, slightly disturbed by her sudden interest. She and Agust looked at the small rodent, grotesquely realizing their mouths were watering.

"No, I found it." He scoffed, pushing the lump of fur off the shirt with his foot. "Of course I caught it. What do you think I was doing out there, sight seeing? Staking a claim to the land?" He pulled on his shirt, which at this point Elsa believed couldn't get any dirtier, and ran a hand through his salt crusted, messy hair. "Actually, that last part might not be a bad idea." He spread his arms, gesturing at the island. "I'll call it Hansland. And you two can be my subjects."

"Shut up." Elsa said, prodding the dead hare, unsure what to do with it. "Agust, can you cook this?" Though she was starving, she still felt squeamish about gutting a dead animal, and considering she didn't even know how, it would be best to push the task to the young man. Afterall, he was always so eager to help.

"Yes, your majesty!" Agust said, utter happiness in his voice. He gingerly picked the hare up and limped about ten feet away, pulling a small pocket knife from his boot and got to work.

Elsa smiled at him with anticipation. If someone had plopped a dead hare in her lap a few days ago she would have been appalled, but now seeing the poor creature made her beyond relieved. It was bizarre how quickly circumstances changed people.

"Thank you." She said looking back up at the still smug man. The last thing she wanted to do was stroke his already puffed out ego, but she couldn't hold back the truth. She was truly grateful.

"No need," Hans said, waving it off with a tired sigh. "I was hungry anyways."

"How did you catch it?" she asked in near awe, unable to pull her mind from their impending dinner.

"Well," he started, sitting beside her with a graceless flop, "It wasn't exactly easy, since I didn't have any gear, but I went hunting a lot with my brothers when I was younger—well, the ones close in age, that is—and I got pretty good at it. It's all about manipulation when you don't have crossbows. You want to trick it into thinking it's safe then spring when you have it cornered. It was good sport, and we would try to outdo each other by making up new rules. My brother, Rudi's, favorite was hunting with no weapons. He was always so violent." Hans gave a hesitant, rueful laugh, and then all together stopped talking. Seeming to regret something he said, his lips pressed into a thin line and he looked away.

She blinked and cocked her head, wondering why he was suddenly so uncomfortable. "I'd say." She prompted, after a few long moments of silence. "You didn't like Rudi's game then?"

He looked bitterly at his hands and swallowed. "No." He then pushed himself up and walked down the coast, putting a healthy distance between him and the curious queen. Elsa sighed dramatically and dizzily pushed herself up, suddenly eager to smooth the drama over.

"I'm sorry you had to kill it like that." She said, stepping lightly beside him as they stared at the rocky coast. A group of young seals splashed in the tide, snuffling the foaming sand and basking in the warm, grey light.

He was quiet, staring at the blissful seals with his arms crossed. "Don't be." He finally said. "I didn't mean to go into detail. That was crude."

She thought about that for a moment, trying to decide if he meant the detail of his kill or the details of his past. She imagined young Hans terrified over what he had done, blood on his small hands from a botched kill, running home crying while his cruel brother laughed. She felt she should say something, she wanted to say something. But the correct words wouldn't form in her mind.

She was met with a new expression, a carefree half smile and cocked brow, that did not match his previously somber words. "I think I smell the furry brute cooking now. Shall we?"

XXX

Agust handed Elsa and Hans chunks of meat from the skewered hare. Hans greedily watched as the doting subject gave Elsa the largest piece but said nothing, turning his eyes instead to his own potion of the stringy meat.

He didn't care about killing the small creature—survival of the fittest and all that—but the stalking, chasing, and snapping had brought up memories of his childhood he'd rather suppress. He spat out some bone, disgusted with the fact he nearly shared a moment of his past, with Elsa of all people. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him as a whimpering child afraid of getting his hands dirty. He swallowed the remainder of the dry, gamey meat, reflecting that that version of him was probably the last thing she saw. After all, he did try to slice her head off with a sword not too long ago. That hadn't been his best moment.

"So," he said, breaking their ravenous silence, wiping his hands on his filthy shirt front, "While I was off being the hero and you too were collapsed on the shore, I got a little surveillance in of Hansland."

"Please stop calling it that." Elsa said pressing her temples.

"You have no right or authority to claim this island!" Agust seethed, throwing the bones to the ground. "You have been disowned from your royal line. The moment Elsa set foot here it came into property of Arendelle!"

Hans simpering look only caused the boy's face to turn even redder than his hair. Hans made eye contact with Elsa, attempting to ask her if Agust was serious, but was only rewarded with an annoyed glare.

"Well, I guess you don't want to know what I saw." He said haughtily, vindictively withholding the information.

"Hans," Elsa said evenly, clenching her fists in her lap. "Please continue."

"Well, I didn't go too far out," he recounted, the smug expression dissolving into earnest excitement, "But I did make my way out of this forest, or rather, woods. The islands here are a bunch of steep bluffs. After the trees end, it's just grass, rocky hills, and cliffs. The other side of the island is a large plateau, so if we wanted to get there we'd have to scale the rocky wall."

"That sounds difficult, considering my situation." Agust said quietly, looking at his splinted leg. "But I think that it's worth a try. We need to see what else is on this island."

"Maybe there are other people here." Elsa said hopefully, a small smile on her face. Her face hardened upon meeting their unsure looks. "Or at least on one of the others. There's got to be some sort of life, whether it's a fishing village or an abandoned lighthouse. The North Sea's islands are usually populated if they are big enough."

"And what makes you think that?" Hans challenged, leaning back onto the rocky shore.

"I did a lot of reading when I was younger." She replied, firm in her belief.

"Well," Hans sighed, reluctant to admit the prospect of finding other people sparked a small flame of hope, "if you say so. Just what kind of reading did you do?"

"I read everything I could get my hands on." She admitted with an embarrassed smile. "I mean, I practically lived in my room my, so I wanted to know about everything I was missing. Novels, histories, almanacs…" she listed, looking at the sky. "I lived in those books."

Hans looked away from the sad, nostalgic sight. It bothered him that she thought of the books fondly. She should be bitter about the way she was forced to live back then. He knew he was. He cupped some water from the snow basin Elsa had made and took a small drink, wishing for the thousandth time since departing Arendelle that it was alcohol that met his lips instead.


	7. Thin Ice

Climbing the bluff, the trio slowly made their way up Hans's prescribed path. As the trees began to thin, Elsa saw the island was as rocky and grassy as the man had said, stretching openly until it suddenly dropped at the steep, sea carved cliffs. At the other side of this plain was the high wall of the plateau.

"I don't think this is going to work." Agust huffed, shifting his weight for the hundredth time. "My leg seems to be getting worse."

"Of course it is." Hans growled in annoyance. "You're supposed to rest a broken bone, not traverse the country side on it. Please stop updating us every two minutes."

Though Elsa shot a glare at the apathetic prince, she couldn't help but agree the young sailor was beginning to get on her nerves. They decided this was the way to go; they needed to find shelter, food, and, if her hunch was right, other people. The boy had vehemently agreed, eager to support his Queen's plan, so he really needed to stop complaining. If he thought it would be too difficult on his leg he should of said something before they got this far.

"How are we supposed to get up that?" Agust moaned as his eyes fixed on the plateau across the grassy clearing, slightly dazed by the thought of free climbing.

"Magic?" Elsa suggested, slightly annoyed the answer wasn't obvious. "I've got powers, might as well use them."

"Probably our best bet." Hans agreed, cracking knuckles as he too surveyed the distant wall. Though he seemed apt to climb, no one wanted to put in more effort than needed.

She bit the inside of her lip, calculating the best way to engineer… whatever she needed to carry them up a fifty foot, ninety degree angle cliff. She could try making a ladder, however the ice rungs might not hold their weight and begin to melt as they made an ascent. Perhaps a staircase? It would have to be very long, angled, and the supports required to keep it stable… Maybe she could make a platform rise up from the ground, similar to how she built the castle. However, that too could be risky for the ice fractals formed in a natural, rapid movement; she didn't want to accidently encase her comrades in a block of ice. But looking at cliff's height she couldn't think of any other way.

"Okay," she began with a deep exhale, "I think I have a plan—,"

"But will it work with my—?"

"I swear, if you say 'in my condition', I'm going to—!"

"Boys!" She yelled, balling her slender hands and grinding her teeth. She felt frost begin to creep along the inside of her palms. Her heart fluttered with the familiar fear of losing control. Forcing herself to breathe, she addressed them with composure. "Let me share the idea before you start complaining." She winced as August's eyes dropped, the comment stinging not just because he had upset his queen, but because her scolding was directed towards him. "Please," she softened, "I need you two to stop fighting if this is going to work."

"Hard to do when the brat acts like I'll slit his throat at night." Hans growled. "If you don't remember, kid, I saved you and your highness's lives. Twice."

"Twice?" Agust spat incredulously. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I did!" Hans childishly insisted. "I got control of the boat when it was about to sink, we were about to capsize and—!"

"Right after you nearly strangled me to death." Elsa shot in, cocking a hip and crossing her ice cold arms. She couldn't help it. The prince's ego got on her nerves almost as much as Agust. Almost.

"And in case you forgot," Agust seethed through his teeth, face reddening, "we did sink."

"Okay," Hans replied defensively, "I think we're straying from the task at hand. Elsa, you said you had a better idea than free climbing?"

"Uh, yes," She replied, caught off guard for a moment. Swallowing and quietly clearing her throat, she laid out the plan. The men's reactions wavered between worried and ready to take the gamble.

"So I think it would be best if you stood as close to me as possible." She ended, nodding in self-agreement. "The fractals will be getting their energy and spiraling from me, so as long as you're in the center of it all, the ice shouldn't hurt you." Realizing she had been talking to the earth, she nervously looked up at the equally tense men. Biting her lip, she waited for a response.

After a long, painfully silent moment, Hans replied, "I think it'll work."

"You do?" Elsa asked, surprised. "I mean, you trust me, even after I nearly killed you with my last bright idea?"

"Hey, I'm still here." Hans said flatly. "And despite almost being cooked from the inside, you did save my life." He shrugged his shoulders. "Can you do it?"

"What?" She asked, slightly taken aback.

"Do you believe you can do it?" He reiterated with emphasis.

She blinked as he stared at her firmly, hazel eyes demanding, challenging even. She felt something cold and clammy creep down her throat as the old fear began to encase her heart.

"Yes!" she insisted, forcing herself out of the icy reverie. "Yes, I can do it."

"Alright." Hans agreed. Then, turning to Agust with a bullying, contemptuous look, he demanded, "What do you think, sailor?"

Agust murmured uncomfortably about the height of the cliff and speed of the ice elevator, evidently not liking the idea but feeling outnumbered. Finally he quietly replied, "I trust you, my queen."

"I can do this." Elsa maintained, finding vigor in their unexpected support.

They wordlessly made their way across the field, the long, sticky grass snagging around their legs as if it was trying to pull them back, to stop them from making a grave mistake, towards the plateau. With the sun high in the sky, they soon stepped into the large shadow, stretching across the plain and casting them in dark light. It loomed overhead, appearing to grow taller with every step. Finally, they reached the behemoth's base.

"I can do this."

XXX

"You did it, your highness!" Agust shouted as they were safely seated on the plateau, their icy pillar standing brightly behind them as if it had always been part of the wall. It was a fluorescing cone, a glacier of ice built into the rocky cliffs of the plateau. From afar it looked as if it were a crystal jutting out of its rocky prison, a diamond in the rough.

"Thanks," Elsa panted, shaky hands twisting in the ragged folds of her once priceless skirt. A slightly dazed, and slightly crazed, smile was etched onto her face as her mouth gaped for air. "I knew I could!" She looked from them both, tired but ecstatic. "I knew it!"

"Yea…" Hans joined in, several notches below thrilled. He lied in the craggy grass next to her, his hands gripping the spiky, sharp stalks. She recalled how he had nervously held onto her for the entire duration of their frozen ascent. "We're alive." The feat had scared him more than he let on; he was probably terrified of her plan to begin with. But he put those doubts, those fears, aside and trusted her.

Finally catching her breath, she pressed her dry lips into warm, unsettling smile. Hans trusted her with his life. And because of that trust she had been able to trust herself. If only she could afford to feel the same.

XXX

The wind was fierce on top of the plateau, buffeting their weak bodies and frayed clothes. Though the crisp bite of the wind stung his face and at times threatened to steal his breath away, the air was so clear and fresh it seemed to almost fill Hans with new life. He actually found himself enjoying it all—until he fell.

The wind came in a gust so strong that he was knocked back off his feet before he had a chance to brace himself. He was fine, of course, besides the fact his pride was wounded and he had landed right on top of the ice queen.

She gasped in shock, then in pain, as the wind was knocked out of her, staring up at him with at first surprised then incredulous eyes. Acting on survival instincts, Hans rolled off in a recoiling manner, scooting across the billowing grass and jumping up as if the collision hadn't happened. He tried to come up with a snarky remark such as 'watch where you're going' or 'I didn't realize you were that attracted to me', but he was too flustered, face too red to form the words.

"Sorry." He halfheartedly managed, rubbing his neck with a calloused hand as the sailor boy ran to his majesty's unbidden rescue. He hoped his voice was lost in the roar of the wind.

"I'm fine, Agust," she growled over the wailing gale, sounding slightly annoyed. "Wind just knocked out of me." She paused then smiled dryly at Hans, who coyly glanced in her direction. "And Hans off his feet."

Hans was about to resort to a crude comeback from his reserve when he saw Elsa's cobalt eyes light up, looking past his shoulder. He turned her direction, searching for what gave her a start, and immediately found it. The plateau dropped off into the sky.

"Great." He drawled uneasily. "Another cliff. Sorry Agust, seems we climbed all this way for nothing." He clapped a hand roughly on the weary boy's shoulder and gave him a mean spirited smile. "Well, time to head back."

"No," Elsa said softly, eyes still drawn on the impending edge, "Not yet." She brushed the hovering sailor off as she pushed herself up. Then she ran to the edge.

"Elsa, wait!" Hans cried out before his mind had time to react. His fingers had somehow found themselves clasping her wrist. She whirled and pulled back indignantly, eyes ferocious and narrowed. Blushing yet again, he let go and took a step back, hands up amiably. "The edge, it just drops off into the sky…" he stammered, embarrassed from reacting so protectively. What had gotten into him? If the queen wanted to throw herself into the void, then by all means; it was one less mouth he'd have to feed.

She turned from him and continued to the edge, this time in a slower more cautious manner, and peered over the side. The wind tore past her, the frays of her dark blue dress billowing like sails around her small frame, salt-crisp blonde hair whipping around her face and falling from a disheveled crown braid. She leaned forward, the force of the wind holding her up. Hans realized he was holding his breath, expecting her waif like form to fall at any moment.

"It's not a cliff!" She yelled breathlessly, looking over her shoulder at the two stiff men, eyes big and excited. "It's a hill! A valley!" Her smile grew bigger, if that was even possible, lighting up her pale face in warm, pink light. "And a village!"

Now it was Han's turn to run to the edge. Careful not to crash into the teetering queen, he skidded to a halt. Instantly his mouth fell open. At the bottom of the steep hill, against the emerald green grass was a community of bright homes. Their white, untextured color could mean they were only made of one thing: sea stone. "There's a port!" Hans cried, pointing past the neat houses to the shimmering gray-blue glass of the nearly imbedded sea.

Long, brown objects that looked the size of biscuits rested on the crooked walkways, their sun bleached sails tied up on toothpick sized masts. "And boats!" He looked at Elsa, seeking to share his excitement. His smile widened as he found she was already looking at him. "In the fjord! Never would have guessed this island had a fishing town nestled within it."

She stared back at him, that half open smile stretched in sloppy delight over her round face, a face that suddenly disappeared as Agust's red head limped in between their eye locked rapture.

"Boats that can take us home."


	8. Eofar

They tore down the steep hill faster than safety would recommend, taking little care to watch their steps as they ran over large rocks half hidden in the tall, ever snagging grass. Elsa dared not to look back, fearful that the saving visage before her eyes was a fleeting dream, a mirage that would disappear when looked at a second time. Tears began to gather in her eyes, a mixture of utter delight that their problems were over and the stinging wind drying the resolutely open bulbs.

"Please, wait!" cried a small voice behind her, its identity undistinguishable in the roaring wind. Instinctually knowing it was Agust, unable to keep up on his lame leg, she slowed her pace and memorized the growing town before her eyes. It was so crisp, so clear, so real—it had to be real because she willed it to be real. Finally tearing her eyes away, she turned back around and hiked back to the miserable Agust.

However, she shot a glance over her shoulder every so often to reaffirm the town had not disappeared. A thrilled and relieved sob escaped her throat as she found the town the same as she left it. Just like the irrepressible, gaping smile on her face, the town wasn't going anywhere.

Hans tore past her as she made her way back to Agust near the top of the bluff, who was shakily leaning backwards to counterbalance the urge to fall forward and hesitantly poking and scooting with his crutch like a blind man, and made no signs of slowing. She glance over her should as the lean man bolted and slid down the hillside, and her smile took a queasy turn, fearing what first impression he'd make on the natives.

"I'm coming, Agust!" She called, breath heavy as she forced herself to ascend the nearly vertical hillside. Her calves already ached and sides thick thanks to the overly ambitious strides with which she'd started climb. But Agust was her only subject, and she wasn't going to abandon him in his time of need.

As she began to slip in the slick, blowing grass, a strong, rough hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back up. Somewhat startled, she turned to see it was Hans.

"Need some help?" he asked, a amused half smile on his face.

"Oh, thanks." She said, steadying herself and unwinding her arm from his. "I thought you'd be down there by now."

"It's not like the town is going anywhere." Hans said, sounding for the first time like an adult. Elsa blushed, suddenly feeling childish for thinking the town was a manifestation that would disappear. "And it'd be best if all three of us showed up at the same time. We don't want the town to think were separate groups, because in trying times like these they would assume we are enemies."

"And we're not enemies?" Elsa asked. She should've felt bad as a hurt look flashed across Hans's face, but the question was too truthful to go unaddressed. Thinking about it paired with the frustration at the situation, however, flared up the old anger. "You've tried to kill me and my sister, Hans, lied to Anna about love, and tried to take over my kingdom. And just yesterday you tried to strangle me during the storm. You may say your trust me, but how am I to trust you?"

Hans self-pleased smile fell into a parted frown, tasting the sea air for flavorful words. But none came. He was embarrassed and unable to respond. His brows furrowed and hazel eyes searched hers, finally dropping to the ground.

Her interrogation was ended before it begun, however, for Agust yelled over the wind, "Well are you two just going to stand there or come and help me?!," frustration overpowering his desire to respect his queen.

"We're coming, Agust," Elsa called back, turning from the fazed prince and continuing on her way back to the lame sailor. "Just laying down the line." She muttered to herself. This town would end her need to partner with Hans. She would no longer have to rely on his help or feel indebted to him. And once they got back to Arendelle…she blushed with shame at the somewhat backstabbing thought, but the law was law. He was a prisoner, charged with treason, conspiracy, and attempted regicide. He was lucky to still have his life.

"You'll just have to." Hans spoke softly from behind. But she gave him no indication that she heard. "And make sure you don't use your powers, it might scare the natives. Don't want a repeat of what happened in Arendelle."

She looked back at him with a scoff, which he answered with a forced grin.

XXX

After what felt like forever, four times longer than it would've taken the two of them, Hans, Elsa, and their child Agust finally entered the boundaries of the town. So of course, true to his nature, Hans dramatized their entrance with a call of,

"HELP!"

He looked around for people, sure to find someone working outside this time of day.

"Help us, please! My friends are injured!"

From around an old goat barn ran a thick, bearded man. "What is it?!" he yelled before even setting his eyes on them, but when he did, he exclaimed, "Good gracious, what happened!? The costal farmer ran to them. As he approached, Agust gave into his weariness and crumbled to the ground and Elsa began to cry with relief.

"Miria, come quick!" the farmer called to his wife, evidently inside the house.

"What on earth is wrong, Isaac?" a stout woman called, emerging from the home still washing a dish in her hand. "Oh goodness!" The dish dropped and clattered to their windworn porch. She hoisted up her apron dress and quickly joined them.

"Our ship was caught in a storm." Hans panted, struggling to support Agust's dead weight. The farmer noticed this immediately and took the dazed boy in to his hands. "We managed to survive in a small boat, and then washed up here."

"Here come inside, dears." The farmer's wife said, grabbing hold of the sobbing, inaudible queen. "You poor thing, you're alright now. It's going to be okay."

"Where are we?" Hans asked the farmer, finally beginning to feel his own weariness and fatigue set in.

"Hah, you're in Eofar." He responded with a gruff smile. "And though you probably don't feel it, seeing what state your lot is in, you are very welcome." The man continued talking, explaining the location of the island and its trade and asking questions about who they were and how they ended up here. Hans was barely listening and answered mechanically, tired and dying to lie down anywhere in the warm home; but he kept just enough of his wits to mask the nature of the voyage and his prisoner identity.

Before he realized it he was sitting on a semi-soft sofa in a little living room of sorts with a scratchy, but comforting wool blanket draped over his sore shoulders, and a cup of hot broth in his hand. Elsa sat adjacent of him in a grandfather chair, a with a somewhat softer looking quilt wrapped around her and a cup of the soup almost forced into her trembling hand. A half conscious Agust was placed beside him with the man of the house doing all he could to wake the poor boy up. The house was pain and uncluttered, but cozy nonetheless. Hans pressed the cup to his own lips and greedily drank the thin, scalding, yet comforting liquid. He noticed that his own hand was trembling.

"I'm sorry that's all I can offer at the moment, dears." Miria said shyly, wiping her hands on her apron as she handed another cup to her husband, who tried to get the stirring, sweating Agust to drink it. "You caught us unawares. I was only preparing enough supper for two, but I can make more." Looking at her now hungrily grimacing husband. "It'll be a few minutes."

"Thank you." Elsa whispered hoarsely from her cup. "You both are so kind. My kingdom will repay you for your aide."

"Kingdom?" Miria asked, mystified with eyes wide. "Your kingdom? You don't mean you're…?"

"Royalty?" her husband finished, mouth agape.

"Yes," Elsa replied awkwardly, eyes focused on the decreasing liquid in her cup. "My name is Elsa. I am the queen of Arendelle. Like Hans here said, are ship came across a storm while we were on a diplomatic mission." She glanced at Hans and he nodded in thanks for not divulging his prisoner status. Though even if she had, there was no way the elderly couple could prevent him from escaping. "As far as I know," Elsa continued, "we are the only survivors."

"I am so sorry." Miria replied, kneeling beside the trembling Queen in awe and hesitantly taking her hand.

"Please," the queen begged, finally looking up from her steaming soup. "I need to return to my kingdom. Our fleet was due back in two days. The country will be in turmoil if they think I am dead."

"Well, we can't allow you to leave just yet!" Miria protested. Han's instinctually narrowed his eyes, suspecting betrayal. His face blushed with internal embarrassment as the elderly woman sympathetically continued, "You all need to rest! You'll catch your death if you head out in this state. No, what you need is a good night's sleep and a home cooked meal. Then in the morning, you all can head down to the port. I think I have heard of your kingdom before. It's a seafaring country on the continent, correct? Either way, they'll be able to help you get to Arendelle."

"Sounds good to me." Hans replied lazily, downing the rest of his broth.

"But my people…" Elsa mumbled, tears in her eyes. "I can't bare Anna thinking I'm dead."

"They'll live." Hans replied scornfully, wanting nothing more than to rest in a nice home for a few days before jumping onto another boat. But then in a gentler tone, he continued, "Ships never arrive right on time, with the winds and weather being unpredictable. There's a marginal error of a day or two. And look at Agust, does he seem like he's fit to hop on a boat and sail for the next few days?"

Agust murmured what sounded like an agreement, groggily drinking the steaming contents of his cup now without the aid of Isaac.

"See?" Hans declared, cocking his thumb at the boy. "Sorry, your highness. It's four against one. And you've got no authority here."

"Right." Elsa replied thinly. "Because it's Hansland."

"No, you're mistaken." Isaac interjected. "It's called Eofar."

If Han's hadn't finished his broth, the hot liquid would have burned through his nostrils.

XXX

After finishing the welcomed meal, the old couple rushed the three of them off the bed. There was one little guest room in the attic, the contents of which indicated it was once the room of a child. Elsa, now garbed in a clean, airy nightgown, stood by the tiny little iron bed with a faded, moth eaten pastel quilt and fought the urge to throw herself down. Miria was still in the room (along with Hans and Agust, who looked like they would be her roommates for the night) and she didn't want to lose what shred of dignity she had left.

She had been so overcome with relief that the reality of the tragic, terrifying, and taxing events finally hit her. Dozens of her men had died in the north sea, she was lost on an island, and Arendelle would be soon in chaos without its lost ruler. The prospect of a kind village being able to take care of her and meet all her needs gave her weakness the room it needed to wallow. She had cried like a victim rather than mustering the strong resolve of a survivor.

She looked at her palms, shaking and numb from internal cold. She couldn't let that weakness, that fear, show through again.

"Here you go, my dears." Miria said with a relieved huff as she dropped a stack of musty blankets and pillows to the dusty floors. "Sorry about the condition of the room, my daughter's been out of the house for nearly twenty years now. She married the butcher's son, they would come by to purchase our goats when they stopped providing milk." She stopped talking, realizing she was rambling, and began to anxiously wring her hands. "I hope you all get rested up. I don't mean to make you feel kept here. If you really want to, you can head down to the docks and seek passage back to your kingdom like you said. But what you need now is rest."

"Yes," Elsa agreed quietly, firmly grasping clasping her hands together and turning back to the aging woman with a grateful bow. "Thank you, Miria. I promise to repay you for your kindness."

"Hah!" Miria laughed, an embarrassed blush spreading across her face. "A Queen in debt to humble goat farmers, bowing to me even! Never even dreamed of hosting bluebloods in my house."

"You're a lucky woman." Hans quipped with an insincere smile as he pulled the comfiest looking blanket from the bundle and flopped onto a few pillows. He had no choice but to sleep on the floor, for Miria had instructed her and the young sailor to sleep in the beds.

Agust, in his near delirious and maimed condition, had been laid on a musty cot on the other side of the room. His soft snores were a relief to hear; Elsa had been quite frightened by how suddenly fatigue had claimed him. The poor boy must have been a lot worse off than even he had let on. Her face burned with shame as she recalled how poorly she'd treated the loyal lad the past two days.

"Her blood is bluer than others. Some would say it's so blue that it could be froz—!"

"Hans!" Elsa exclaimed, feeling an ice cube form and crack between her palms. Miria looked at her, startled. "Err, please," Elsa stammered, heart racing as she tried to smooth over her panicked outburst. "Don't call or treat me like royalty. This isn't my kingdom. Here, I am just Elsa."

"No problem, _Elsa_." Hans emphasized mockingly, groggily pulling a pillow over his head. Elsa's blood boiled at the prince's moodiness, and she fought the urge to her the block of ice in her hand at his covered head.

"I wasn't talking to you." She hissed under her breath as she climbed into the little bed.

"You darlings get some sleep." Miria cooed as she exited the room. "We'll let the sailors down at the port know about your plight. You don't have to worry about anything now, we'll take care of you."

Elsa closed her eyes, exhaustion pounding every inch of her body and mind. But the sleep was welcome and long overdue, and she wore a smile on her face as she drifted off into a deep afternoon slumber.

XXX

Elsa awoke very confused. Bright light peeked through the seams of the thick curtains covering the small attic window. Her body was heavy and sore, but something in her mind told her it was time to get up. Slowly pushing herself up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked around her bedroom and nearly had a heart attack.

This wasn't her royal chamber!

Panicking, she attempted to get up and run to the door, but, as her body was moving slower than her thoughts, she came crashing onto something both soft and hard.

"Ow!" She exclaimed, brain foggy and eyes trying to focus around the swimming black dots.

"Ow." Echoed a tenor voice echoed grumpily, as a form beneath blankets and pillows pushed her off. She recoiled in sudden fear, heart still pounding, and held shaking hands before her. The air around them was cold and dense, and frost gathered at the tips.

"Hans?" she balked, as the auburn covered head popped out from the blankets.

"Elsa?" Hans mimicked with a throaty growl, eyes narrow and shooting daggers.

Hans. Of course. The memories came rushing back to her, seizing her heart with sudden disappointment that she almost failed to master.

"How are you?" she attempted to ask calmly, slowly molding her defensive stance into a sitting position.

"Other than waking up with two knee sized bruises on my back in some damn heifer-whatever island, I'm great." He threw the blanket back his messy tangle of locks and burrowed back into his pile of warm fluff.

"What time is it?" She asked nervously, glancing at the heavily curtained window.

"Don't know." Came an annoyed, muffled reply.

She stood slowly, body aching and shivering in the loose night gown, and she moved to look out the window. Throwing open the curtains, she filled the dark attic with brilliant afternoon light. Agust groaned from the other side of the room, tossing in his bed to shield his eyes.

Blinking in the blinding light, Elsa looked up at the sun high above. It had to be between noon and three. "It's high noon." She whispered to herself, then turning to the whining boys, "How is it noon? It feel like I slept forever."

"It is noon." Came a low chuckle from the other side of the door. It opened slowly, revealing a merry Isaac. "Just not yesterday's, or the day before that."

"What?" Elsa asked, taken aback. "Not yesterday's or the day before that? You mean, we slept for two whole days? This can't be!" She began to fret, pulling at her now nasty mess of salty, greasy hair. "I was supposed to be on my way back to Arendelle yesterday!"

"Yes, about that." Isaac replied sheepishly, looking to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. "I went down to the port the evening you folk got here to line up your voyage, let them know your predicament and what not."

"And?" Elsa demanded as he paused, coldness creeping through her insides.

"I'm sorry, your highness, but all our boats fit for that distance are out at sea. It'll be about a week before any make it back to our waters."

"A week?" she cried, the coldness gripping her heart and yanking it in the billowing storm of despair below. "An entire week." She collapsed onto the bed behind her. "Oh Anna…"

"It's alright, dear." Isaac said uncomfortably. "We will still be able to get you back. I know you're worried about your people, but it'll be alright." As Elsa began to cry he edged out the room, disappearing with a, "Miria!"

Two whole days. How had she slept for a whole two days?! She tried to think, to remember. She had to of eaten, of used the bathroom? The memories came back to her as foggy disproportioned dreams. Light taps on her arm, warm, thick gruel steaming in a bowl on her lap, being carried out of the room. She pressed her temples in frustration. She was thankful to the goat farming couple, but having to wait here another week? She couldn't handle thinking about the chaos her unannounced absence would bring.

"Seven days." She wept, dropping an oily face into her hands.

"Elsa?" Hans asked, peeking from under his covers.

"Ah, yes, Hans?" she asked, wiping her eyes in embarrassment. She'd forgotten the prince was hiding under there.

"Could you please close those damn curtains?"

XXX

Miri and Isaac informed them that the owner of the port's wife was expecting them. Her name was Margery and she had agreed to lodge the shipwrecked trio until her husband's expedition returned. As much as Miria doted on the queen and Isaac took pride in hosting royalty, the little farmers couldn't afford or spare the room for three more adults.

"We'll walk you down to Margery's house." Miria added, as Isaac explained the situation. "You'll be quite comfortable down there, nice open rooms and the sea right outside your window. She's used to hosting the crew, so she has plenty of space and food for your lot."

"Thank you, both of you." Elsa replied, sincere tears in her eyes. "When we do get home, I will send my thanks. You saved our lives."

"Oh, you're too kind." Miria blushed, glancing away with a wide smile. "We only did what descent people ought to."

Making their way into town, Elsa began to feel self-conscious of her appearance. She had no other clothes beside the tattered gown, which she had insisted on wearing. She didn't want to take any more advantage of the goat herder's hospitality. But the gown was quite disgusting and itchy against her skin. And she was in desperate need of a bath. Glancing at a half sneering, half amused Hans and the still limping and all too quiet Agust, she realized they looked no better. This observation did not improve her vanity.

Entering the little seaport was like stepping into a painting. The sloping town was neat and clean, with the cool, breezy air tasting of salt and flora. A sandy, gray gravel road wound its way downhill to the sparkling blue sea, framed by craggy trees just dropping their long held magenta flowers and spindly costal grass. All the homes were tapered but tall, made completely of white stucco and washed stone. Colorful windows glinted in a variety of mosaic colors, some shut tightly as their tenants roamed the outdoors, while others remained opened to the fresh sea air rolling in from fyord's port, their bright glass winking at the group as they passed by. But they were not the only ones to give attention. People were bustling about doing their daily work and errands, sweeping the narrow, shady alleys between homes, trimming the vegetation, patching the slate roofs.

They did this quietly, obviously all too familiar with both the routine and one another, but as Elsa's group passes through their work came to a standstill. The hammers stopped banging, the scratching of the brooms halted mid dust cloud, the clippers remained threateningly open around the neck of an untamed bud.

"Good afternoon, Gerald." Miria chirped, enthusiastically waving at the nearby hedge trimmer. "How do you do?"

His eyes flicked to the plump, merry women then back to Elsa, mouth agape. "Beth, Beth!" He called to the house without looking back. "She's here!" Dropping the hedge clippers from his hand, he hastily pulled the cap from his head and held it to his chest in a small bow.

Hearing pounding through the open window, Elsa saw the top of a blonde head tear by, emerging in full form second later through the flung open door. A young girl about the age of ten padded bare foot down pavestones, a bouquet of carefully strung wildflowers in hand.

Her eyes were wide as her father's smile, but before crossing the gate she came to a halt. She nervously glanced at her father.

"Go on," Miria breathed, "you don't get a chance to meet royalty every day!"

She looked back to Elsa, whose own face was burning red with embarrassment. She fought the urge to not glare at Miria. Clearly the old woman had been very excited to brag about their arrival.

The girl named Beth approached cautiously, eyeing Elsa with both admiration and suspicion. With a small, giggly smile she handed Elsa the bouquet.

"That's all you brought her?" Hans demanded. The crass joke startled the poor girl; her face dropped in horror as she looked at him, fearing she insulted the queen.

"Hans!" Elsa scolded, uncomfortable with all the people staring. The stems in her hand began to grow brittle as frost seized at their throats. "Thank you, Beth." Elsa said kindly, dropping down to her knees on eye level with the young girl. "They are almost as lovely as you. I realize my appearance may have caught you off guard, but it's been a rough couple of days. I wish I had had a gift to give you, but this will have to do." She reached into the folds of her dress, pretending to retrieve a trinket from some disclosed pocket, and quickly formed a little pendent.

"Here you go." Elsa said with a smile as she dropped the crystal into the girl's warm palm. "A part of Arendelle, from me to you."

The girls eyes went wide as it made contact with her skin. "It's cold!" she whispered in amazement.

"Yes," Elsa mused, adopting a playful grin. "It's from an enchanted castle on top of the North Mountain. Some say a snow queen lives there and that she freezes solid all who enter her domain." Hans snorted, but she ignored him.

"How did you get it?" The little girl inquired, holding it close to her face, the brilliant gem bending little rainbow into her eyes.

"I climbed the mountain and met the snow queen of course." Elsa replied simply. "And you know what? The stories weren't true. She was actually really nice. She created the crystal for me with her own powers. Though it will never melt, she promised it would stay as cold as ice forever."

"Woah." Beth gasped, cradling the little treasure in her palms.

"Yes, then we all sang uplifting songs and practiced archery." Hans interjected for the second time. "It was quite an experience." Beth glanced at him, somewhat annoyed and confused.

"Beth!" her father chided, sentences of scolding carried in the single tone.

"Thank you, Queen Elsa!" she chirped, dropping into a low curtsy. "Please enjoy your stay in Eofar!"

As they broke away from the small family, Elsa was pleased to hear the girl laugh happily and begin to babble about the story the she spun for her. But she was more pleased to feel her heartbeat return to normal with each passing step.

XXX

They made their way through the town, passing through a lively, quaint little market circling at the center—more people dying to give Elsa their family heirlooms and prized goats—and, after what would have been a relatively brisk fifteen minute walk, finally arrived at the ports an hour later. Hans sighed impatiently, both body and mind tired. The old couple had exhausted all his patience the second they started fawning over Elsa like some perfect angel.

She didn't even look pretty right now. He stifled a laugh as he glanced at her tattered, muddy dress, her hair hung down in matted strands, blowing carelessly in the wind. She looked strong, athletic, wild. "Pretty" was a lie, and it undermined all they'd been through.

No, Elsa wasn't pretty. She was resplendent.

But these low folk, they tokenized her every gesture and movement, her every smile and glance as their "little treasures" for they would ever get the chance to "entertain royalty" ever again. To them she was a frail, poor little queen incapable of surviving on her own, completely reliant and at their mercy. And they ate it up.

He seethed at every greedy flash that crossed their faces as they thanked her for the promises of rewards. He and how Agust were invisible servants next to her glory. If these people were truly sincere about wanting to help them, they would be fawning all three of them, not just the proclaimed blue blood. He huffed, a sardonic smile twitching on his faith for the millionth time in disbelief at their hypocrisy. If they only knew the truth about their precious visitor.

At one point in the market he had noticed some young women glancing at him, their giggles and whispers half hidden under large bonnets. He briefly entertained the idea they were eyeing him, but upon reflecting on his outward appearance, his cynicism replaced his ego. He could've told them all he was a prince, he could've eaten up the praise and love like Elsa, but something in him had reserved that knowledge.

Instead, he had pointed the gaggling group out to Agust.

"Agust, I think they're looking at you." He had said.

"What?!" Agust fumed, looking from the pretty girls back to Hans, incredulous. "You think I'm interested in love at a time like this? I'm busted up, failing to protect my queen, and we already could have died over a hundred times!"

To which Hans replied with dramatic flourish: "The teen angst!"

He swallowed, both uncomfortable and unable to name the emotion these experiences created. Was it fear? Would Elsa report his deeds to the people, would she leave him behind to stay locked up in heifer-ville forever? Out of her life and free flowing hair forever? He wouldn't blame her if she did, but it was not a fate he wished upon himself. So he decided it would be best to remain low, play the servant and let her call the shots from here on out. Perhaps if he was a good little "prisoner" he would have chance to gain his freedom once they got back to Arendelle. Ideally with the queen's won over help.

Finally, they arrived at the this Margey's seaport home. It was a large stucco building built on stone and stilts as what would be the deck morphed into a long docking bay. It was chilly down by the water, and Hans shivered remembering the near freeze he died from three week ahead of him. Though as Elsa's loyal servant, he muddled, he would most likely have to accompany her everywhere as opposed to sleeping the days away in the sunny grass. He was sure the other half of the town and then some would demand to see her at least once before the week was up.

"Here we are!" Isaac announced, lumbering up the warped stairs to the inn's front door. "Margery!" he called, knocking on the paint chipped white door with enthusiasm. "They're here!"

"Oh, just a moment!" a heavily accented female voice called. "I just have to—!" a small crash sounded out the creaking shutters. "Well, shit! Okay, well, okay. Abbie, forget the biscuits and clean this up please! I'll get the door!"

Hans recoiled as the door flew open with the force of the mad woman behind. "Hello!" she bellowed excitedly, clean white teeth shining brilliantly against her dark face. "Um, hello." She corrected, adopting a manor of a proper host, a host that was unaware her guests had heard the chaos up unto this point. Or simply chose to believe so. "Queen Elsa, I am honored to host you and your servants here at my inn. My name is Margery Kristensen. Please, come in."

She stepped back, opening the door wide and beckoning them in with a pump, yet strong arm. They walked in, giving polite thanks and what not and were ushered into an empty mess hall. As they passed through, Hans glanced towards a slightly swinging door leading to the kitchen. He saw a tan girl on all fours quickly sweeping up broken glass and mopping a juicy liquid with a rag. She took extra precaution not to get it on her lilac dress, and a few flowers fell from her black hair as she worked with haste.

Hans rolled his eyes. Yet another fan girl to fawn over the almighty queen.

"Here sit down, sit down!" Margery boomed, pulling out newly polished chairs from the long tables. "Please, make yourselves at home, my girl Abbie and I will be right out with supper."

She disappeared through the swinging door, only to reemerge half a second later. "No one is allergic to anything, I hope?" She received blank stares. "Good!" then disappeared behind the door mid-swing.

"Well, actually—!" Hans called mischievously, only to get elbowed in the ribs by Elsa. He laughed at her frustrated attempts to control his childishness.

"Hans, please!" Elsa hissed at him, voice low in hopes of keeping the still lingering Miria and Isaac from hearing. Apparently the two goat farmers were staying for supper as well. "Would you stop being so rude? If you've forgotten, these people are helping us!"

"Umm, your majesty." Agust interrupted with soft worry. "I'm allergic to strawberries. Do you think—?"

"Ugh, Agust!" Elsa groaned. "Why didn't you tell her? Just, just go tell them okay?"

"Yes, your majesty." He replied sheepishly, pushing himself up and limping with a new pair of crutches Isaac crafted for him towards the door.

"Oh, shoot." Elsa muttered. "I forgot his leg…" She made to stand up and stop him, but Hans caught her around the arm. "Just let him go. He can't be totally reliant on his parents."

"What?" Elsa balked. Her bewilderment was cut short by the two farmers attempting to make small talk.

"So what do you think of Eofar, Elsa?" Isaac asked, putting his arm lovingly around his wife. "The people here are very welcoming. Don't be afraid to go out and visit them."

"Oh, they would love that, wouldn't they?" Miria mused, rubbing his protective arm.

"Yes, it was very nice. You all are very nice." Elsa replied awkwardly, turning from Hans and attempting to check her rising anger. Already bored, Hans glanced back and watched Agust struggle to limp away. He chuckled to himself; the crutches Isaac made were just a bit too tall.

"And do come to visit us, if you have the chance." Miria continued, jealous of losing the queen's company. "Just because we couldn't host you doesn't mean we want to be absent of you."

"I'll keep that in mind." Elsa laughed lightly, though her response unfortunately sounded genuine. Agust just arrived at the kitchen door.

"So what do you plan on doing this week?" Isaac asked. "Because we could probably pull something together as a town, throw you a little celebration to make the time pass quicker."

"Not that we want you to leave!" Miria interjected. "But we know you're eager to get home to your kingdom and family." Agust was now struggling to open the door. Hans entertained the idea of yelling to the dumb boy that you had to push it. But then he decided there were some things a man needed to do for himself. Like figure out how to open a door.

"Oh, that would be lovely." Elsa commented, glancing downward at her closed palms. "But I don't need the attention."

"Oh, it wouldn't be anything to crazy." Isaac insisted. "Just a little get together, something for you to remember us all by. Maybe it would serve to paint this whole adventure in a happier light."

"Maybe…"

Agust finally figured out how the door worked.

"Oh, then it's settled!" Miria exclaimed excitedly. "We'll talk to Margery, let Rudolf and Gallia know, they'd be willing to provide meat. Oh we should probably talk to Hannah, she's good at organizing these kinds of—!"

Agust had just begun to push the door open when the full force of a slender girl backed into it with trays upon trays full of steaming food. The two collided in a loud, awful, completely delightful crash that sent them and everything in hand to the now not so gleaming wooden floor.

And then Hans burst out laughing.

Apology upon apology bumbled from the two of them as they collected their wits.

"I am so sorry!" the girl in the now stained lilac dress professed, gathering the broken pieces in embarrassment. "I ruined everything."

"No, no!" Agust insisted, pushing himself into a sitting position with a wince and attempting to help her clean their tag-team mess. "It's my fault. I'm not used to working with these things." Their hands touched by accident.

"What?" the girl looked at him for the first time. A dark blush spread across her tan face. "Oh, you poor thing." She murmured sympathetically. "I am so sorry. Here, let me help you up."

"Oh, thank you." Agust stammered with a blush. "I'm Agust. I would've preferred to not meet like this, but what's done is done. Your name?"

"Abbie." She said with a brilliant smile, absent mindedly fixing a flower in her hair as she glanced away. She then dropped back down to pick the rest of the mess up, attempting to hide her beaming, girly smile.

"Um, Abbie?" Agust asked, panic suddenly in his voice. "What is this red stuff on me?"

"Oh!" Abbie exclaimed, looking at him in embarrassment. "Those are strawberry preserves. They were for the pound cake. Sorry about that."

"Strawberries!"

"Oh, heavens!" Margery cried, running out of the kitchen. "The food!"

And that's when the whole incident stopped being so amusing to Hans.

XXX

"Miss Elsa," Margery called, waking her from dazed sleep. "or Queen Elsa, I suppose you are to be called. I washed your dress for you."

Elsa rose from the bed she'd been granted. It'd been a day since she'd arrived at Margery's inn, and though the townsfolk insisted on seeing her every moment she'd finally escaped to take a nap. Much to Hans's and Agust's delights. The prince protested every minute they were out, and Agust ached to be at the inn doing who know what. He was always up in his room, most likely resting his leg. But the townspeople were wonderful, proved once again by Margery's kindness in cleaning her dress. Brushing the starchy, white summer dress that a tailor had gifted her upon seeing her tattered rags, she smiled gratefully at her kind hostess.

Her pleased smile fell into a grimace upon seeing the sorry excuse for a royal travel gown held up in the woman's black hands. The thick, blue velvet was washed out from the saltwater and was worn in around the legs, arms, and backside areas, exposing large patched of thin white mesh that normally secured the expensive fiber. The gold patchwork on the bust had unraveled, the wiry threads tight and loose, often broken and falling from the stitch work irregularly, bunching up material unseemingly. The train was completely torn off and a large cut ran up the right side seam (thanks to Hans), exposing slightly decomposed and grayed under skirting. What was left of the fraying hem was permanently stained a crusty dark, brown color.

"Oh thank you," Elsa managed, feeling guilty her vanity insulted the woman's work, "but it's far too damaged for me to wear. It's nearly falling apart."

"What? No! " Margery gasped, taken aback. She turned the dress slightly so she could gaze on it as well. "It's lovely, dear! Sure, the hem needs to be resewn—best way to do that would be folding it over and taking up a few inches—and its seen some salt and labor, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's regal, functional, and quite frankly, the most beautiful dress I have ever seen."

"Would you like it?" Elsa offered suddenly. Fearing the woman would think it was charity, she quickly added. "I'd like for it to be put to good use. If it pleases you, gifting it is the least I can do. You've all been so kind and welcoming, to total strangers—!"

She was cut off as Margery pulled her into strong a hug. "Dear, we only did what any decent human being would do. But you are most welcome, and thank you for the dress. It's far too young and small for me, but I'm sure I can fix it into something sweet for my little Abbie. Though what events here are grand enough for her to wear it for, I cannot imagine. But please, don't feel you owe us anything. You, your husband, and servant have been through so much—,"

"Wait, what?" Elsa interrupted. "My husband?" Roses bloomed rapidly across her pale complexion, as if she had summoned forth the power of summer rather winter. But the lady had turned away, folding up the dress lovingly in her arms and bustling about the workroom.

"I almost lost my husband to these seas. He is a brave man and loving father, you'll meet him when he gets back into port. He'll take you back in a heartbeat."

"I'm not married to Hans." She insisted loudly, then, embarrassed in a new way, added, "Or Agust. I'm not married to anyone." He face burned with heat and she fretfully glanced around the small room, pondering the thinness of the walls. What if the pompous prince had heard her?

"Well, maybe not a heartbeat," Margery continued, not hearing her, "but after a good night's rest he'd be willing to move a mountain to help someone in need."

"Single and quite content to not mingle."

"I'm sorry dear," Margery said with a flustered smile. "Did you say something? Sometimes I prattle on and on and on, there was one time that Resnette and I went out to lunch—but you see it was a diversion, I was to stall for a surprise party we were having for her fiftieth birthday—and I was doing so well with my talking that I nearly forgot I was supposed to bring her to the party at half past! We were nearly two hours late, oh her husband was so mad, but she was so happy. He couldn't spoil the mood by being angry, we are old friends after all—,"

"I said I'm not married." Elsa interjected, straining to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "Never have been. The two men are unrelated to me. One was a royal sailor, the other—," she manually stopped herself from saying prisoner, "on diplomatic business."

"Oh, heavens!" Margery whispered, appalled. "I am so sorry if I have offended you, I didn't mean anything, I just assumed, or perhaps hoped he survived the crash alive. Your dynamic seemed so, well familiar. I would have inquired earlier but something about his demeanor was unsettling. No one really mentioned who he was. Again, I'm sorry. But you say, if you don't mind my asking, you've never been married. How are you crowned Queen?"

"Arendelle…is different." Elsa answered pondering the question. "We don't normally rule independently, but when the throne becomes vacant the country must move onto the oldest heir, traditions and formalities be damned."

"Vacant?" the woman murmured, "Oh, my dear, you don't mean…?"

"Yes," Elsa affirmed a sad smile on her face as she stared down at her folded hands. "My parents died in a sea storm, a storm quite like the one my ship encountered I imagine."

"You poor dear, I am so sorry to hear that." She murmured, sitting next to Elsa on the bare bed and covering her hands in hers. "I'm sure they were great rulers, if they begat such a wonderful daughter."

"Two wonderful daughters." Elsa corrected. "And they tried their best." All this talk of her family, death, and Arendelle was beginning to make her very sad, and the longing to return home widen in her heart.

"Let's not talk about this anymore." Margery decided, giving her hand a squeeze. "I know you've been pretty tired, but I'm sure you've rested well these past two days, and the town here is aching to have a celebration, and with royal company in our midst, I mean, you don't see blue blood come to Eofar."

"Margery," Elsa interrupted the old woman's ramble with a small laugh, "What is it?"

"Well," Margery forced, excitement brimming with an energetic squeal, "We're having a festival tonight in your honor!"


	9. The Festival

"The festival's grand."

That's what Hans was supposed to say every time a town's member asked if he was enjoying himself. He had snickered and adopted a royal air the first few times, even thrown in a few bows for good humor, but eventually he had grown weary of the constant attention and dance requests to the never ending folkish tunes. Unsurprisingly, he was now found hauled up near the food bar with good ole Agust, the last person he wanted invading his alone time.

Looking up at the sky, he observed no stars and swore he could smell coming rain. Well, at least the party would be ending soon.

He wanted to have a good time, he truly did, but he couldn't let the nagging suspicion go that that the town's kindness was attributed to Elsa's royalty; he was so sure their amiable hosts only wanted something in return.

He spotted the snow queen across the court yard talking to her endless mob of new friends. If he thought the attention he'd received was unbearable, he now realized she had it far worse. When he first saw her today she was almost unrecognizable. The usual royal garb had been replaced with an elegant white sundress, dancing flats, and a blue-dyed shawl. Her traditional crown braid had been released, the soft curls woven instead over her shoulder, and adorned with small, brightly colored wild flowers, most likely gifts from her younger female admirers. The shorter dress and carefree hair style took away the titles she was forced to bear, leaving her simple, young, and beautiful. He smiled as she caught his eye, a friendly expression she playfully returned, seeming to say something between "look at all these sweet people" and "help me, I'm drowning over here!" He laughed a little and turned away, pulling more food onto his empty plate. However, he continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

"So Agust," He asked with affected joviality, wanting to be rid of the uptight sailor, "Why don't you ask one of those girls ogling you to dance?"

"What?" the crippled red-head spluttered, nearly choking on the watered down ale he'd been nursing the past half-hour.

"Oh, don't be coy." Hans teased, waving chicken bone at him, "I've seen you watching them. They're pretty cute, why don't you go have some fun, stop being so broody all the time?"

"How am I supposed to dance on this leg!?" Agust complained.

"Though, according to the horrid novels I've read, girls go wild for the broody ones." Hans talked over him.

"Oh, you're just mocking me again." Agust huffed, setting his drink down so roughly it nearly spilled brown liquid over their borrowed clothes.

"I don't think they'd mind." Hans laughed as the boy panicked, trying to steady the wobbling mug. "Come on, I just saw you glance up to see if they noticed your blunder. Go talk to them! Remember, you're an exotic with royal connections."

"I'm not interested in them." Agust insisted, shifted on his crutches as his ears burned.

"So you _are _interested in somebody." Hans proclaimed, the double meaning in the sailor's words never lost on him. "The question is who could it be?" It only for took a second for Agust to habitually glance at the young woman in question. His face was now redder than his hair as Hans's smile grew wide with victory.

"Abbie!" Hans called to the inn-keeper's young daughter. "Please, come join us!" The girl looked in their direction upon hearing her name, her brilliant smile so wide Hans could easily guess she'd been fantasizing about this occurrence.

She wore a heavy summer dress that fell about mid-calf of an astonishingly royal blue. Hans was sure he'd seen the dress somewhere before, especially when he noticed the carefully stitched gold accents. The dark, velveteen material seemed foreign when compared to the styles worn by her peers, making her the most beautiful girl at the festival. Right after Elsa, of course.

"Master Hans, Master Agust." She acknowledge blissfully. "You clean up well."

"Miss Abbie." Hans replied with a charming smile. He gave a genuine bow, which she returned with a blushing curtsy, though her eyes only graced him for a second. Agust claimed her attention.

The sailor stared at her wide eyed, his mouth gaping.

Hans would've laughed at the poor boy again, but vicarious desires overpowered his actions, driving him to instead roughly pat the boy on back and attempt to bring him out of his hormonal rapture. "Agust was just talking about how your lovely dress compliments your natural beauty, weren't you Agust?"

"You're in Queen Elsa's dress!"

Abbie's dark complexion flushed, eyes darting away self-consciously. "Ah, yes. She gave me the materials from her gown. Mother sewed it into a party dress for me. I love it, but I should've been more tactful and not worn it so soon. It was impulsive of me."

"No!" Agust spluttered, nearly shouting and dropping his crutches. "I mean, no, you look beautiful!"

Her blush deepened as a relieved, enamored smile replaced her embarrassed frown. The soft background music suddenly swelled and a violin hummed, demanding the attention of all the guests. "Agust, they are about to begin another dance. Would you care to join me?"

"Yes!" He blurted, but as he shot forward to escort her to the floor his stumbling reminded him of his lame leg. "Oh, but my leg…"

"I don't care if we simply stand on the floor and talk." Abbie insisted with a warm smile, placing her dark, nimble fingers on his lean shoulder. "I want _you_ as my partner."

"Yes, my lady!" Agust acquiesced fervently, though he still shot a nervous glance at Hans as the young girl led him away. Hans laughed and encouragingly waved the two younger people on, eager to watch their quaint romance unfold and simultaneously make a mess of the dance floor. But keen as he, Elsa once again recaptured his attention.

A young man with a blond pony-tail approached her with a bow, offering her his hand for the dance. Elsa smiled sweetly, though when she glanced away Hans resolved she was looking for an escape. Finding none, she turned back to the handsome young man and mouthed a few words. She then placed her hand in his, allowing him to triumphantly lead her to the dance floor. Hans sighed, feeling a pull in his heart. After watching them spin together a few times as the dance began to a cheerful roar and flourish of merry band music, Hans forced himself to turn away and refocused his attention back on the food. He noticed the silent flash of heat lightening out on the coast, and the wind was beginning to come faster, too. Guess the dance would be ending soon.

"You know," an aged voice croaked beside him, "you exchange partners several times in this dance."

"Excuse me?" Hans softly gasped in surprise, whirling towards the voice, three bites of food still in his mouth. The elderly woman before him smiled and pointed towards the spot where Elsa spun with pony-tail. Sure enough, they spun away from one another after a few beats, clasping a similar dancer adjacent to them and began repeating the steps with them instead. A warm feeling crept into his chest as he watched her dance, an involuntary smile spreading across his face. She moved so fluidly and kept perfect time, eyes always on her partner and never straying to her feet. Any reservations she might have had when approaching the floor were now gone, replaced with utter joy and the adrenaline of the dance. Her smile lit up her entire face making her previously cold, tired eyes sparkle like crown jewels.

"Well go on!" The old woman laughed, pushing him away from the table with more strength than he deemed her capable. "You'll miss you chance!"

"But they've already begun," he protested, nervously adjusting his vest, which suddenly felt far too tight. "I can't join now, not without a dance partner."

"Ha, well look around!" The old woman crooned, giving the courtyard a grand sweep. "There are plenty of ladies to choose from, all of which are dying for you to ask them."

A devilish grin lit up Hans's face as he realized the opportunity she presented him; a newfound ambition to claim Elsa as his dance partner filled his heart. But after scanning the rim of the dance floor for pining ladies, his eyes came back to land on the elder clad in muddy purple before him. "The only one I wish to grace the dance floor with is you, my lady." Hans said with all the genuine charm and swagger he could muster around the hammering of his heart.

"Hah!" The old lady laughed, a fine tint blooming on her pale, wrinkling face. Flirtatiously glancing away and smoothing her pile of white hair, she glided to him with the poise of a queen. Grabbing her small, warm hand in his, the two of them abandoned the food table and entered the dance.

All the other ladies heaved sighs in dismay.

XXX

Stepping to the rhythm of the music that consumed her being, Elsa spun around the dance floor, linking arms, skipping, and turning with more partners than she could count. She tried to memorize their faces, make a connection with them as they partnered for intimate moments.

But every encounter was brief, their spirits barely brushing, the heat of their hands and raptured stares lasting just a heartbeat before they were torn apart. And so the dance went on, spinning turning, jumping, clasping, ducking, and skipping until there was nothing but the music and the soul's insatiable desire to move. She laughed energetically, sustained by the movements and the pounding of her feet as the song resonated through the earth. She could move like this forever; only when the music finally ended would the spell break and she'd realize her fatigue.

Reaching her hand behind her, she clasped her next partner. Whirling her dress around with an exuberant laugh to face him or her, she found them pressed intimately against one another. Her breath caught as they locked hands and eyes, heart fluttering to a near stop.

"Hi." Hans lightly panted with soft ecstasy. His smile was wide with fulfillment as he gazed down at her, holding her both tight as if he'd finally found what he'd been searching for and would never let go. Any exhaustion she imagined in him was lost as he suddenly lifted her up at the waist with reclaimed energy, spinning her round once more to the music.

He was so close, so warm, and giving her a smile so charming that it wasn't until her bosom heaved against him with an invigorated breath that she remembered to dance.

Feet finding the floor as he let her down, they began the second spin, hands repositioned and clasping the other's forearm for three beats, then pulling close again to dance as one.

The music became more spirited as the dance built, forcing them to spin faster and faster until all she saw was the man holding her. He was bright and laughing through his heavy breaths, auburn hair flopping out of its neat part, green vest shimmering, and the colored lantern light making his eyes sparkle with such violent pleasure she felt her insides swell. He was so different, so warm, so ecstatically happy and moving her around the floor with such ease that their partnering suddenly felt—wrong.

She shouldn't feel this, shouldn't be noticing Hans like this. He was an enemy, a revolting monster that had tried to kill her and Anna. But the sheepskin this wolf wore was so appealing.

Primal urges propelled her closer to him and blood began roaring in her ears, drowning out any thought of escape. Her mouth parted in hunger for his, unable to further deny herself in the intoxicating super of the dance. Her thoughts began to slip away, abandoning her to the fire within. She was burning, unable to focus on anything but this painful yearning she saw reflected in his own eyes and parted, blood filled lips. He leaned closer to her, the heat of their bodies and the dance nearly one—he was so close, so warm, so hot—she couldn't do this, it was unbearable, she needed air, she needed to cool down, she needed too—

Hans gasped in pain, recoiling from their near embrace. She floundered, for a moment unsure of what happened and feeling far too cold in his absence. Curling inward and breaking the contact, he panted softly in pain, hand in question quivering as he cradled it with the other.

"Hans?" Elsa asked with concern, voice straining to reach him through the music. "What's wrong?" He attempted to turn from her, hiding his left hand. She reached out and gingerly pulled it towards her. "Hans, are you—?" Her heart shattered as she found shards of ice frozen against and piercing his skin. Ice and blood.

"Elsa," Hans breathed steadily, eyes both wounded and worried. "It's okay. I'm fine."

Her hands flew up to her mouth in horror as she backed away, mumbling incoherent apologies. She'd done this, she'd hurt him. She'd lost control like she did back in Arendelle. Cold fear began to creep over her heart, freezing her blood with a familiarity that shook her to the bone. She thought she'd overcome this, she thought it was under control.

The music changed with her growing fear, becoming loud, chaotic, and unbearable. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think as the noise pressed around her, no longer invigorating or uplifting her spirits but sending them running with fear.

"Elsa!" Hans warned, voice straining through the music and thundering of the dancers around them.

Her retreat was forced to a sudden stop as she backed into another dancer. Heart dropping as the two of them stumbled and clung to one another for support, she caused stranger yelped in pain as her hand grabbed his arm. She fell to the floor as he flailed away, the cold ice encasing his skin so intense it felt like he'd been burned.

The hammering in her ears intensified as she watched her power hurt another, the old fear taking over. The man stared at his arm in horror, waving it hysterically as he fell into another group of dancers, causing the floor to break into chaos. Eyes wide in self mortification, Elsa helplessly observed the dance fall apart from her spot on the floor.

The band came to an unnatural stop, the screeching strings drawing the attention of the entire festival. When the awful sound finally died, Elsa remained alone on the dance floor. All eyes were trained on her, the dread setting in as she felt eyes boring into her from all directions. Suddenly she realized this deathly quiet was worse than the oppressive music could have ever been.

Breathing heavily, she pushed herself to her feet, knees trembling with fear. The power surged within her, pressing against her skin and threatening to release. She couldn't contain it; it hurt and numbed her marrow, leaving her aching and sweating cold droplets from every pore. She couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything but the freezing cold as it encased her insides. Every beat threatened to burst through her ribs, the pain growing worse with every passing second. She had to escape the stares, she had to get away from the people before she gave way to the anxiety she thought she'd conquered long ago.

Backing away from those in front of her, she turned her head around to find the crowd had encircled her. Hans stood near her, blood dripping from his wounded hand. Every face was painted with confusion and worry.

"My queen!" a vaguely familiar voice shouted out of the crowd. "Are you hurt, are you alright?" Elsa at jerked the sound, edgy as a trapped animal. Agust limped forward, pushing through the surrounding bodies. Abbie, Margery, Miria and Isaac followed closely behind.

"Elsa, dear, are you alright?" Miria asked hesitantly, stopping a few feet from where the queen unsteadily stood.

"Agust, what's happened?" Abbie begged nervously, grabbing his wobbling arm.

"What's going on?" Isaac asked loudly, turning toward all those in the crowd. His voice was affected with accusation, as if someone had insulted his honored guest.

Everyone began to buzz, asking similar questions and trying to figure out what was wrong. The man she'd accidently froze continued to yell about his arm, unsure of how it happened and afraid to begin speculations. More women and men came forward, arms stretched out and murmuring consolations to her.

"Everyone, give her space!" Hans begged, attempting to hide his wounded arm. His eyes connected with Agust's in a mutually shared apprehension.

"You're scaring her!" Agust warned. But his words were lost, especially on Elsa.

All she could see were the swimming faces, the sweaty hands and bodies pressing towards her, heightening her fear. She needed air, she needed space, she needed to let the surging power go. But she couldn't. Not here, not now, not with all them so close. The ice was rising in her like bile, inevitable and unpredictable but going to come up. She was dying inside. She could no longer subdue it

With an agonized scream, ice exploded from her pores, crystalizing with such speed it was almost a manifestation. The sheets spread from where she stood, flat at first then fracturing into dangerous shards at the ends, forcing the people back, even her friends. They stumbled and screamed, eyes wide with a growing fear that only accelerated her own. She was able to direct most of the power upward, away from the people, lighting the sky an indescribable blue. The color hung in the night air like a northern light, then slowly rained down on the city as shards of hail.

Everyone gasped and screamed, running for protection slipping on ice.

"Sorcery! Dark magic! Demons! Witch!" were some of the cries that reached her ears. When the power finally expended itself, she collapsed to the ground with a sob. Suddenly her arm was grabbed and body forced away from the center of the chaos.

"What?" she spluttered through the overpowering sobs that claimed her being. Though her body refused, the strength of the one pulling her away seeped into her limbs. She found her legs and was able to push herself forward.

"Come on, your highness!" Hans shouted over the din, squeezing her wrist painfully but encouragingly. "We need to go!" He pulled her through the crowd of running people, pushing the townsfolk aside as if they were branches in his path.

In the chaos, Elsa saw a glimpse of red-hair, a young boy struggling to get up from the floor as bodies ran over and around him.

"Agust!" She cried out, reaching for the loyal subject. But he disappeared behind the swarming mass of bodies as Hans dragged her away.

They finally broke free of the festival grounds, running through the dark, echoing streets as lighting lit the sky. Elsa looked up just in time to see the freezing sheet of rain come hurtling from the dark, swirling sky. Her power caused another storm.

"Hans, I did this!" she cried in agony and self-loathing, knees giving out as she attempted to let the chaos re-consume her. She needed the pain, she needed to suffer, she needed to be stopped—!

"You DID NOT cause this!" Hans yelled in reference to the storm. He dropped down beside her and looped his good arm around her waist, forcing her back up to her feet. "It's been brewing all night. Now, please Elsa, run!"

"I can't!" Elsa cried, though her feet continued to propel her weak body forward.

She followed him down a narrow alley, the white stucco buildings exploding in bright light with every flash. She felt herself begin to suffocate again, but seeing Hans before her as they bolted towards the opening filled her with the determination to run forward, to escape the chaos, to calm down, to survive.

They burst out of the alley and into a field of uneven grass that spanned hundreds of yards in all directions. The wind hit her like a wall as they tore across the open land, making a beeline to the dark, gnarled forest beyond.

She looked over her shoulder, fearful of being pursued, and chest seizing as her fears were confirmed. A few brave souls chased after them, intent on getting answers and justice. She couldn't let them catch her, couldn't face them. Not like this, not in her current state. Without a second thought, she swung her arm backward in defense, causing the grazing field to freeze under a layer of ice. Focusing back on Hans, she continued running, straining her ears to hear if the men slowed or gave up the chase.

Hans leaped into the thick brush and trees, sparing a glance to make sure she followed, but his concern was missed as she simultaneously looked back to see the mob of men. It had worked; they'd slipped, falling back in fear and awe of her power, second guessing their resolve to catch her. They disappeared from her view as she followed Hans into the trees.

Freezing rain soaked them to the bone, their beautiful clothes becoming soiled as they once again tore through the wilderness. The dark woods were the last place she wanted to run to, but though the leaves rustled violently above, the dense forest remained still, chilly, and quiet. It was like hiding under a blanket of fresh snow.

Because that's what she'd chosen to do again—hide. Like all those months before, she decided to run from her problems.


	10. Monsters

Agust's head was pounding from the stampede of feet around him, the jostling of his body as he was trampled again and again, and the screaming. The terrified screams bore into his skull like a fishhook, slashing the jelly substance of his brain to goo. And then there was his leg, the break searing with renewed pain as his was thrown to the ground and repeatedly stepped on. It burned white hot, lighting up his nerves and sending him into near shock. It was maddening, especially with the chaos going on around him, but somehow through it all he was able to focus on the one thing more important than his life: his queen.

"Your highness!" He screamed, strangled and higher pitched than normal. But his voice was lost in the din, drowned even on his own ears. "My queen!" It was useless, useless just like him. Before he'd fallen down to the mercy of the panicked crowd, he's seen her running to safety. If the town's people were still so frantic, he felt it was a good sign that "the witch" was on the loose. Her escape gave him the solace he needed to finally give way to unconsciousness.

"Wake up!" The loud sound rang in his ears, pulling his groggy mind forward. It brought the ringing in his ears and the hot, stomach curling pain in his body back as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. The pain seemed to stem from the swelling in his leg. He withered a bit, arms unnaturally stiff, back and neck aching like hell.

Suddenly the flaming pain disappeared as a cold sensation washed over him, drenching his skin and brining him retching into total consciousness with shaky gasps for air. Queen Elsa was here, she had saved him from the crowd, was using her powers to heal him like before-

The pain flared back up, causing him to wince with an undignified squeal. Warm tears filled his eyes, but whatever else happened he would not let them fall. He was a sailor, a soldier; it would take more than this broken leg to bring him down. At least this time.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The angry, gruff voice crammed its way into his mind. Not Queen Elsa. Not Hans.

This wasn't going to be good.

"I could ask the same of you." Agust growled, forcing his eyes open and staring the man in front of him down with more courage than he felt. Before fully registering the man sitting in front of him with an empty bucket, he first saw the bars that set them apart. Long, dull metal bars that stretched from the dirty stone ground to the chipping stucco ceiling above. Then he realized why his arms were so stiff, why his wrists were burning; they were bound behind his back. He shifted himself, trying in vain to bring his arms forward but they were trapped by the rungs of the rickety chair he'd been propped in. He looked back at the man, incredulous. He almost flinched upon seeing the man's own rage far surpassed his own.

"How dare you treat us like this?" Agust still managed, the words no longer carrying the threat he's intended. They were lined with vulnerability and fear. "Where is her highness? What have you done to her?"

"You don't get to ask the questions!" The man snarled, though he nervously squirmed in his chair as Agust's voice rose with anger. "Who are you and what do you want from us?"

"We're Arendelles," Agust answered, trying to keep his voice even. "The royal ship sank in a storm, leaving us stranded here." He tried to stay calm, to be patient. He remembered these people had just seen Elsa's power and they were justifiably scared. Hell, he'd called the queen a witch the first time he'd seen her power, and that was only a few months ago. They had no idea who he, the queen, and Hans were. For all they knew he had powers just like Elsa. It was starting to make sense why the man was so scared of him, why they'd taken such precautions and locked him up.

"You're lying." The man insisted, teeth gritting. "Your _queen_ is a sorceress, a witch. You're monsters, exiles, weapons of war, I don't know! But what I do know is that you are a danger to Eofar, whether you mean to be or not." The way he said "I" carried the weight of the entire town. He must have been volunteered to interrogate this "dangerous prisoner", Agust assumed.

"We're not monsters!" Agust insisted, beginning to panic. "I swear upon her highnesses life—"

"Such a swear won't carry weight here." The man snarled. "Not anymore. You lied to us."

"No one lied." Agust growled, the pain dulling as he began to steam with anger. "No one asked us, 'oh hello castaways! Do any of you have magical abilities we should be aware about?' No! We didn't want to hurt you, we still don't want to hurt you! We just want to go home."

"If you didn't want to hurt anyone, why did your ice witch attack the town?" The man deathly whispered, rising from his chair in sudden fear of Agust. "Why did she and her lover run?!"

"She's not a witch! And lover?" Agust spluttered, caught him off guard. Oh. Hans. At least he's learned Elsa did in fact get away. He sighed in relief for a moment, but then the negative side of his brain spun it into a wail of dismay. The island was only so big, only so many places to run, hide—it was only a matter of time before they found her. And if Agust was reading his interrogator correctly, they would do more than bind and lock her up. "She can't control it sometimes, when he gets scared or angry or—!"

"Much like you now?" The man observed, fearfully backing towards the cell hall door. He stared at Agust for a brief moment, debating whether to continue asking the questions he's been voted to retrieve or run for his life. Predictably, Flight won and he flung the heavy door open and slammed it behind him. The sound of several bolts told Agust they'd taken all measures to not only keep him in, but protect their selves.

"No!" Agust screamed in panic, rocking in his chair. The outburst rewarded him with a new bout of pain, curdling in his broken bones and throbbing bruises. "No! You've got to listen!" He begged, still fighting against the pain. "Please, you've got to listen to me!" His voice cracked with defeat, body sagging against his tight bonds. They were out hunting for Queen Elsa right now. They saw her as a monster, a danger that needed to be destroyed for the safety of all. They didn't know her, they didn't know him. All they had was his word, and much that would do now.

He was the only one who could fix this. He had to convince them they meant no harm, that it was just an accident. He cursed the queen, an action he immediately regretted, and wondered why she'd lost control in the first place. He'd not been watching or protecting her, he'd been paying too much to Abbie. Her dark skin ripe in that blue velvet dress, her soft lilac smell, her kind, sympathetic smile and understanding eyes—

"ABBIE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs before the idea had fully formed in his head. "ABBIE! AAABBIEEEEEE!" And he'd keep screaming, even when his throat would begin to bleed, even when his lungs would threaten to burst. He'd keep screaming her name until she came and listened, truly listened to what he had to say.

And when she finally arrived, breathless, harried, and inspecting him with confusion and fear, he told her the story of Queen Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle.

XXX

After running through the woods for what felt like a mile, Hans's body came to a stop, his insides' protests overcoming the need to move his feet. He bent over holding his stomach, willing himself to not vomit up the food he consumed not a half hour earlier. He was pretty sure he could keep the rolling mass of chicken, cakes, fruits, and who knows what else down as long as he didn't move. Ever.

"Oh gosh…" he moaned, nearly sagging to his knees. Elsa tore past him, the frenzy of the chase still giving her the strength to press forward. But as her anchor collapsed that energy began to wane. Feeling her legs grow heavy with the anticipation of stopping, she forced herself to turn around and go back to Hans, to urge him onward, save him from whatever he'd suddenly fallen victim to. They had to get far away from the town, their pursuers, what she had done. If she stopped, she would have to face the consequences. She needed him to keep moving.

"What's the matter!?" Elsa demanded as she ran panting back to him. "Why are you stopping? We have to go?!" She grabbed his tight, muscled arm and forced him to run along. She tried not to notice the warmth that erupted as their skins touched again. Dooming the island to an ice storm was the last thing they needed right now. She couldn't lose control of herself, not again.

Hans's heaving body resisted the pull at first, but eventually gave into her forceful tugs. "I'm sorry!" He moaned, struggling regain his pace. "I ate a lot of food!"

"Why did you do that?!" She breathed, a stitch forming in her side.

"I have this problem where if I don't put food in my stomach I can die. Really inconvenient, I know."

"No," she seethed through her teeth, taking her frustration and sudden running pains out on him. "Why were you filling your face?"

"We were at a party!" He yelled, bewildered by her flashing anger. "I didn't know we'd have to run for our lives. Again. What was I supposed to do, not enjoy to local cuisine?"

Then body took over will and he fell forward onto his hands and knees, sharing the very same local cuisine with the damp forest floor below.

"Oh no," Elsa whined, though not without sympathy. She hovered back and forth, unsure of what to do, and finally settled beside him, rubbing and patting his back as Hans heaved.

Hans's sinuses burned and his throat was raw as the acid forced its way out of his stomach. But he since wasn't truly sick, just over exerted, the sickly action made him feel better, though very tired. He mumbled at Elsa, asking her to help him away from the stinking mess. The pleas had barely left his burning mouth before she hauled him up and helped him hobble away.

"I—I think we've outrun them." Hans wheezed as they awkwardly limped under their combined weights. "It should be safe for us to rest." He felt his stomach twist again as they nearly tipped over an overgrown root. "Ideally somewhere nearby." Elsa murmured in agreement, too tired to argue or continue running.

They trudged over the thick roots and soggy ground, the mist of the rain above clinging to their bodies and bringing up a low, swirling fog. They approached a muddy, but flattened area under a giant, crippling oak tree; its low hanging branches made the spot ideal for their stop, sheltering them from the rain and keeping the surrounding earth free of brush. Elsa heaved a sigh as she helped Hans settled down, propping him up between the massive roots. With a fluttering heart and burning cheeks, she once again called upon her cursed powers and crafted an ice cup which she filled with the fluffiest flakes of snow. The crisp flakes melted quickly in the wet, summer air and she hesitantly passed the cup of clean water to Hans.

"Drink this." She ordered softly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Thanks." Hans carefully took the cup into a shaking hand and pressed it to his parched lips. The water tasted heavenly, washing away the burning, acidic tastes the incident had left and filling his stomach with cold, soothing matter.

Elsa winced as she saw blood trickle down his arm and his fingers leave wet, red smears on the icy cup. Though the shards had long fallen out and melted off him, she had hurt him. That blood was her fault.

"You're hand…" she whispered with shame, still refusing to look him in the eye. What had happened back there? Why had she lost control? Why had she hurt him, those other people?

Hans warily looked at his injured had, tilting his head in confusion as if he'd forgotten the pain. He winced as he sharp cuts returned but he pushed it from his mind. Making Elsa feel bad about it was the last thing she needed right now.

Elsa quickly summoned up swath of sticky snow and pressed it onto his wounds. He hissed as the cold water filled the raw skin and the immaculate white became stained pink with his blood. But the hiss fell into a sigh of relief as the snow coat numbed the pain and slowed the blood flow of his wounds.

"Elsa," Hans said softly, reaching out to touch her with the non-bloody, snow covered hand, "It's okay. I'm fine, really." She hadn't meant to hurt him. He'd seen how scared she was, seen her trapped in the crowd, her powers splaying out of control. All he cared about was getting her away from the raging crowd, getting her somewhere safe where she could breathe and calm down.

She flinched from his touch, turning her head and pressing her eyes and lips shut. She felt every moment with him, every touch, would set off her powers. They'd been dancing, that's all—and look what she had done. Tears pushed against her eyelids, a wave that would inevitably fall when she finally reopened them.

"I'm so sorry." She breathed, voice shaky with a suppressed sob. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry I ruined everything, I'm sorry I destroyed our chance to return to Arendelle—!" The last apology struck her as she realized its weight. Her slurring words collapsed into sobs.

Hans put his good arm around her, and though she tried to move away, he pulled her close and held her as she cried. Here she was patching up his arm, helping him find shelter and rest, and now apologizing to him of all people. She'd lost the most in the accident, she was the one who's chances to reclaim her life had been dashed, stolen from her in a sudden whirl of fear. Fear brought on by him. He didn't deserve her kindness, her apologies. It was his fault she lost control, his fault she was stuck on this island in the first place. He breathed ruefully, shaking his head at himself. He shouldn't have attempted to dance with her; she'd been caught off-guard, was so nervous. And then—his face instantly blushed—he'd had the audacity to try to kiss her! He had no right to try that, no right to even think that towards her! Entertaining such feelings was foolish; had he truly forgotten his role in all this? He was her enemy, her prisoner. No wonder she'd lost control.

If he hadn't interfered with her life, hadn't let his emotions control him, none of this would ever had happened.

There was nothing he could do for her, nothing he could say to apologize for his idiocrasy, his feelings both old and new that continued to ruin her life. His was already over, he knew that, why should hers be ruined too? All he could do was hold her close and be with her as she cried. She wouldn't be alone this time when her world came crashing down.

Hans wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Even when Elsa's sobs died with her growing fatigue, they remained huddled under the sprawling oak branches, warming each other against the storm and their drenched clothes, which were utterly destroyed once again. Her poor, cotton dress had made her so bright, so alive, so naturally beautiful. He had felt something strange inside himself seeing her dancing and spinning. She was so happy, so full of life. He'd only seen her eyes that alive once before, right after she and Anna reunited and sent him flying overboard into the still freezing waters of the fjord. He felt a growling in his heart, angry her happiness and new life had been stolen from her so soon. A life of love, family, and happiness that he would never know.

He'd do anything to give her that life again, anything to bring back that light to her eyes.

"Do you—do you think I'm a monster?" Elsa finally choked out, breaking the silence.

"No."

"Not even back then, the night of the coronation?" She elaborated, grief threatening to overtake her. "When I lost control, everyone was so shocked, appalled, frightened? You weren't even scared of me then?"

"I've never been scared of you."

"Yeah, you were practical." She laughed bitterly, tears falling free. She heaved herself away from his encircling arms and pulled her knees to her chest and buried her chin. "Instead of seeing a monster, you saw a weakness, an opportunity to take advantage of." A chill clawed at her skin as her body separated from his. Though she attempted to welcome the cold, to accept its unfeeling embrace, she felt herself longing for his warmth. She hugged herself tighter, barring her arms from seeking his. She couldn't give into these desires to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him! It would only result in more pain, fear, and disaster. She had to get away, break off her emotions, keep her mind busy.

So she decided to talk.

She decided to argue.

She decided to pry into his mind in hopes to escape her own.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" He countered, voice loud yet earnestly seeking an answer. She looked away, biting her lips. The answer was in her expression, but the hesitation meant it was being debated. "Did you ever want something so bad that you were willing to do anything to obtain it?" He tried again, eyes directed towards the ground. "Even if it meant becoming someone you no longer recognized?"

"The coronation ball." Elsa replied steadily, eyes following his. "When ran away."

"If I remember correctly, they wanted to burn you at the stake." Hans interrupted bitterly. "Much like they do now."

"Yes," she agreed, feeling the grief well inside again, "and both times I acted instinctually, but in Arendelle—I am their Queen. I shouldn't have run, and when I did I should've come back. But when I got away, when I was finally out and alone, I felt—I realized I was free. I was finally free of a destiny I never asked for and a fear that ruled my entire life. I no longer had to conceal who I was, and I didn't want to ever again. I through my responsibilities needs of my kingdom, my love for my sister to the wind." She leaned back against the tree, shaking her head with a sad, regretful smile on her face. "When Anna found me, told me what I'd done to Arendelle, I refused to go back, thinking only of myself. To be honest, at the time I didn't even care. I'd finally found my freedom and nothing was going to take it from me, not even the lives of my sister or people." She stopped, looking at him with cold eyes. "I'm assuming your regret occurred the same night."

"I behaved rather brutishly." He said, then winced at the grand understatement. "I wanted to have a kingdom, and the only way that would ever happen was if I married into one. Your situation seemed promising. Two orphaned princesses, one becoming a sovereign queen, the lives of both mysterious and shut from their people. I figured if I could court you I'd have everything I'd always wanted."

"But you didn't." Elsa stated, feeling a blush creep up her rain plastered cheeks. "You pursued Anna, and then tried to kill her."

"Killing was not my original intention." Hans murmured shamefacedly. "I wanted to marry you, but you were so reclusive and cold, and Anna was so eager and sunny…becoming engaged to her was easy. But then I realized as we came back to the dance how young you were, only one and twenty. I couldn't wait my entire life hoping you'd die and I'd inherit the crown with Anna…I couldn't throw my chance at being king away, not after coming so close. So I resolved you would have to be removed. I'd wait a few years, get to know the people of Arendelle and Anna, win their hearts, and then stage an accident for you. But then everything exploded into chaos and with you deemed a witch and casting an eternal winter, I saw my chance to immediately assume the throne alongside the Anna. I didn't plan on you freezing her heart; I didn't even plan on killing her down the road. But when she did show up sick, dying, and in need of my help I knew I couldn't save her, and I realized I no longer needed to. I truthfully hoped I'd grow to love her one day, but she was still a stranger to me, sweet and loving, yes, but still a stranger. I owed her nothing. In that moment, I deemed it best to privately cut our ties."

"I can understand, maybe even forgive, how you treated me in Arendelle," Elsa said when he finished, struggling to keep her words even, "but what I can't fathom was how you treated Anna." Her voice began to grow with revived rage. "She was freezing to death, she needed you, and you left her to die!"

"I couldn't have saved her." Hans defended himself, though the energy wasn't there. "I didn't love her. There was nothing I could do."

"Perhaps," she agreed angrily, tears masked by the rain. "But you were cruel. You could've tried, you could've gotten help, attempted to keep her warm, told me the truth! But no, you happily broke your engagement to her as if ridding yourself of a leech, and laughed as you robbed her of heat and locked her away!" a sob forced through her words. "You didn't try to save her, didn't even want to."

He could not meet her eyes, and though his body was freezing, his face burned with raw, unending shame. There was nothing he could say, nothing but to agree he was a despicable piece of trash. That he was a monster, that he was a villain, that he was evil. He didn't want to fight with her, especially since everything she said and accused him of was true. He deserved her anger, her hate, her abuse. It was his fault she was here, his fault she'd lost control at the festival. He deserved to be trapped on the island left to face a bloodthirsty mob, not her. Never her.

"Why did you want a crown that badly?" she demanded, wanting to understand why he needed it, how he could become so horrible. "Power? Respect? Family? You were a prince, you had all that already!"

"There was nothing for me back home." He answered quietly, all his rationale suddenly seeming perverse and trivial in light of his actions.

"That's no reason to destroy another's!" She rebuked, giving words to his silent guilt. "You think you're the only royal with problems they couldn't vent, problems they had to conceal their entire life to prevent staining their lineage and losing the crown?" Elsa clenched her jaw, cobalt eyes boring icicles into his hazel. "My parents made me feel my powers were a plague, a curse. They feared I'd cause us to lose everything. How would you like to grow up feeling like a mistake?"

"I'm the thirteenth son. I was a mistake."

Elsa blinked, her tirade of words derailed at the shockingly large number. And she'd often thought having a sister was tough enough. "You had said you had brothers—I didn't realize—,"

"My mother wanted a little girl." Hans explained sheepishly, though there was extreme sadness hidden behind the redness of his face. "She never was blessed with one, and after me the doctors said her body couldn't handle any more births. I realize my childhood difficulties are petty when compared to yours, but being her last disappointment, unable to compete with my older brothers accomplishments, parents being bored with raising their other sons by the time I achieved anything…I couldn't handle being invisible anymore."

"We all have demons, Hans." She replied softly, finding more likeness of herself in him than she ever believed possible. She'd struggled her whole life to be invisible; he'd struggled his whole life to become visible. Though she'd failed miserably for the best, he'd succeeded infamously for the worst.

"True I was rich and all my immediate needs were met," Hans continued offhandedly, trying to separate his emotions from the backstory, "But that doesn't make a person happy. Humans need love—now I'm sounding hypocritical—but it's true. I needed love from my father, my brothers, my _mother,_ but I never felt it." He didn't want to tell her these things mostly because he didn't want to admit them to himself. But part of him that wanted to hold her, wanted to kiss her, wanted her to know, wanted her to understand maybe he wasn't evil, wanted her to see he'd finally found a reason—a cause—to start acting like a man.

And now that the story was unfolding he couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to. "I was cast aside, ignored, taken care of by wet nurses a find servants. I was made so invisible my parents didn't even ship me off to a boarding school. The only times I ever saw them was during formal events, dinner, and my brother's ceremonies. The only time they ever took an interest in me was when they sent me far north to court noble daughters, to finally rid themselves of me forever. They never imagined I'd cultivated the ambition to pursue a princess."

Elsa remained silent, listening intently but unsure of what to say. What words could she even use? She didn't know what she felt anymore when she looked at him. Anger, hate, playfulness, irritation, weariness, and now…did she dare to say empathy? And if she reflected on what she felt, what scared her to the core a mere hour earlier, infatuation? A fondness even?

She hated him, he'd try to take everything from her, tried to kill Anna. And yet here she was feeling forgiveness and finding her own troubles shared by him. Though it seemed wrong, they now shared a bond. She trembled in the cold, a new sensation, and found herself longing for his arms to wrap around her again.

"When your lot shipped me back home," Hans murmured quietly after a few minutes of silence, "It was the first time I had an intimate encounter with my mother. She slapped me, called me a disgrace. She then told me they were all better off when I was invisible. Her words, not mine." He paused, feeling his composure begin to shake. He rebuilt his foundation within Elsa's eyes. "That whole time, she'd known they'd been neglecting me, known what they were doing to me. But they didn't care, she didn't care." His voice cracked, emotions betraying his solid composure. Clamping his trembling jaw shut, he forced the monstrous sorrow that threatened to envelop him back down. He'd learned how to shut out his feelings a long time ago. All they ever did was cause him trouble.

"I'm not telling you this for your forgiveness or pity," he finally finished, stoic expression restored, "I'd never be as presumptuous as to expect that, but so that you can understand how a monster like me was be born. Though it means little now, I am truly sorry about what I did to you and Anna. I will live with the guilt and regret for those decisions for the rest of my life."

"Hans," Elsa whispered, the cursed word barely audible in her shaky breaths. Her hand crawled across the sodden earth, fingers lacing over his. He stared down at them in surprise; they were pleasantly cold to the touch. "If I'm not a monster, than neither are you. I forgive you."

"But—," He protested, a lump rising in his throat. "But everything that happened—we wouldn't even be here if you didn't feel compelled to come save me from an honor's execution. And the chaos in the town—that was all my fault. I shouldn't have been so forward, I scared you, caused you to give into fear—!"

"Hans," Elsa interrupted, her steady gaze locked onto his, truly seeing him as a man for the first time, "What's there to be afraid of?"

Her lips brushed against his, warm, soft, and full of emotions neither of them could understand. She needed it, he needed it, and with the chaos in the town inevitably going to catch up to them, they had nothing left to lose.


	11. Forgiven

**It's here it's here it's her it's here it's here! After several long, stressful, busy busy busy months! It's finally here, the startling, intriguing, romantic, drama filled SECOND to last chapter! Enjoy ;)**

* * *

Hans was the first to break away, guilt withering into his mind. He looked down at their linked fingers, wondering how they'd gotten to this point. This connection. This whirlwind that would inevitably blow up in his face.

Elsa's nose found his drooping locks, breathing him in, waiting for his lips to return to hers. Her grip around his neck relaxed a little and she dipped her nose back down to his. Realizing his smile was not going to find hers again, she leaned back to observe his guilt ridden face. She refused to let the negative feeling creep over her, too.

"Don't." she ordered icily, denying the problems their embrace would cause. As queen she had a duty of justice to Arendelle, but as Elsa she had a duty to herself. Sharing this moment with Hans, finding herself somewhere behind his rough, villainous exterior, was almost as freeing as the day she accepted her powers. Like Anna, he was now vital to her existence. And her survival on this island. If he hadn't been there to calm her down, to challenge her to question and discover herself, Eofar would probably be under six feet of snow.

"We shouldn't have done that." Hans said quietly, eyes still downcast. He slid fingers his fingers out from under hers.

"We needed it, Hans." Elsa asserted, reaching back for his retreating hand. "We were crumbling, but in one another we found the means to stand. That kiss was a promise to not let the other fall again." She nuzzled back into him, hearing his rapid heartbeat against her ear. "And besides, there are no consequences anymore. From our new standpoint, the only way off this island is if we steal a boat."

"That's an ultimatum." He replied a bit uneasily. He lifted her face from his shoulder and looked seriously into her eyes. "If we do that, there will be no chance to smooth things over."

"You don't know that." She answered with a quiet, but wry, smile. "I was able to smooth things over with you." She leaned in again and brushed her lips against his, affirming her decision to both him and herself.

His lips responded lightly and gave an awkward smile as they broke apart again, heart fluttering with confusing emotions. They'd done more than just smooth things over, forgive and forget—they had actually kissed! Elsa and Hans, the heroine and villain of a frozen fairytale. He tried to fight the conflicting emotions down, to regain composure, to be the ornery upstart he usually was. These feelings were too new, too confusing. And more importantly, he needed to figure out if they they made him feel happy or guilty.

"To steal or not steal?" He tried instead, flashing a roguish smile. "Taking a page from my book, I see? Well, lucky for you I've about had it with these bootlickers. Taking their boat may just be enough to lift my evil spirits."

"But we have to rescue Agust first." Elsa contended, worry reclouding her eyes. She'd almost forgotten about the loyal subject in her renewed calm. "He's back there in the village and, seeing how scared they were, I'm sure he isn't resting in Margery's inn."

"Yeah," Hans groaned, leaning away with a sigh. "That little prick—," Elsa's eyes flashed dangerously, "I mean, loyal sailor doesn't deserve to be left behind."

"We can do this." She affirmed around a wide yawn. "I'm no longer afraid."

"But you are pretty tired." Hans replied, yawning himself.

"So here's what I'm thinking…" She continued, settling as comfortably as she could against him. The air was cold and tree they leaned against knotty, but the warmth of his body was comforting, reassuring, protecting. "We go into town and split up. I'll find Agust and bust him out—prison cells made of ice shatter. I know from experience."

Hans winced slightly. It was clear Elsa had moved past their, well, past. She was even joking about it now. So why couldn't he? But tiredness took over, so pushing his worried to the side he leaned back against the tree, arm circling and allowing her to readjust to his recline. She was cool to touch, but the longer he held her, the warmer she grew. His head began to loll against the top hers.

"You'll make your way down the port," she mumbled, voice growing faint, "and take the largest boat you can find."

"It won't be a very good travel boat." He murmured back, the fatigue of stress and a long day finally wearing on him.

"I know," she breathed, "but I also know that by working together we will make it home."

"Even crossing the North Sea?"

"Even crossing the Pacific Ocean."

XXX

"I found them!"

A voice yelled from the bushes, jolting Hans and Elsa from their dreamless sleep. Unaware of how long they slept, besides the fact gray light now filtered through the dense trees, the two scrambled at the noise, hearts leaping from their chests. The prince jumped protectively in front of the ice wielding queen with a hostile snarl.

"Elsa, run!" Hans growled, blood surging through the grogginess of sleep.

"And leave the one without powers to fend them off?" She formed ice daggers in her slightly shaking hands. "Not happening."

The voice's owner stepped from the bushes with his hands in the air. "Please, calm down." The man trembled, approaching hesitantly as one would a stray dog. "We are not here to harm you!"

"And I not you!" Elsa insisted, ice daggers shaking all the more. "But how can I trust you after last night?"

"The same way we now trust you." The man lowered his hands and took the cap off his head, trying his best to appear amiable. "Through this young man."

The sounds of trampled leaves and cracking sticks made their ways toward them. "We need to go." Hans warned, beginning to back away from the noise. He rose to his feet and grabbed Elsa's arm, begging her to flee.

"Wait." Elsa pleaded, shrugging out of his nervous grasp. "What young man?"

"Elsa!" A familiar voice shouted. "My Queen!" The red haired man Elsa had hoped to see burst through the brush, nearly colliding into the older man before them.

"Don't be alarmed—they aren't going to hurt you!" Agust panted around a pained smile, adjusting wooden crutches under his arms. "I told them everything—your story! They aren't scared anymore!"

"My story?" Elsa blinked, dropped daggers melting at her bare feet. She looked from Agust to the older man who, though still appearing nervous, nodding genuinely. Suddenly more townsfolk burst through the brush, panting through apologies and similar revelations. Isaac and Miria were there, as well as Margery and Abbie, and many other familiar faces. The couple approached the down trodden queen, tears and cries of affection shining on their faces. They embraced her, mud covered dress and all, and begged for apologies.

"Poor dear!" Miria cried, backing away but hands remaining on the queen's thin shoulders. "All soiled and fatigued once again by this damned island!"

"Miria!" Isaac gasped at her curse.

"It is damned, Isaac!" Miria cried louder, looking at her husband fiercely. "Caused nothing but trouble for these precious youths." She looked Elsa up and down, seeing various cuts, bruises, and muddy tangles. "And by our towns own hands. I'm so ashamed."

"It's alright," Elsa reassured the wailing woman. "I forgive you. You reacted like any normal person would." She instinctually looked back at Hans with a smile, remembering he hadn't reacted normally at all. But then again, he wasn't a normal person.

"And we're supposed to trust you? All of you?" Hans grunted over the apologies and cries. "Just like that?"

"They listened to the whole story, Hans." Agust assured, hobbling over to the bristling man. "They know she's not a monster, or a witch. Just an extremely talented, gifted, loving, and compassionate ruler."

Hans face reddened, but not from the embarrassment the crowd interpreted. His heart gushed jealously towards, and for, Elsa. She was so much more, meant so much more, than any high praise could describe. She deserved so much more than apologies, parties, and clean dresses. She deserved so much more than he could ever give her.

XXX

Back in the town, the citizens cleaned the runaways up and gave them every luxury they could offer. They looked on Hans though with smothered glares and curt smiles, offering him the same clean baths, clothes, and foods as the Queen and Agust but spending as little time with him as possible. His ears burned, correctly guessing where this disdain stemmed from. Agust had told Elsa's story after all. No one accept Elsa and Hans were aware of the sequel.

Having the queen back in town sparked more interest, and many of the Eofar citizens begged for her to tell the story in her own words. Standing now on a stout platform in the center of town, where the festival was held the night before, Elsa recounted her story from the beginning, starting with the conception of her powers, the near fatal accident that sent her into hiding, and the whirlwind coronation. The people awed, gasped, and cried at the appropriate times, and by the middle of the tale the villagers loved Anna as much as Elsa, and held even more disdain for Hans than ever before.

When Elsa relayed the betrayal and violence Hans committed, she looked away from the crowd, voice dropping and words coming in awkward stumbles. She looked at Hans briefly, who was doing his best to blend into the captivated audience, unsure if she should continue. He forced a smile and swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He gave her the smallest nod of encouragement.

As if pulled by a magnet, the entire crowd turned their eyes on the described villain, murmuring and casting resentful glares. Hans stood his ground, his back stiffening in order to withstand their hateful gazes. He bore his eyes into Elsa, to Agust and Abbie who stood off to the side hand-in-hand, to his friends. But none of their gazes rose to meet his.

Overtaken by the awkward explanation of Han's villainy in lieu of his welcomed company, Elsa rushed through the ending and skipped like a tremoring heart to her diplomatic rescue mission, their crash, and the heroics of Hans (and her and Agust) as they made their way towards and through the island.

But the damage had been done, and many unforgiving eyes burned hotter than the villain's cheeks. Hans's gaze finally dropped down in shame. He didn't deserve Elsa's forced praise and wishes for approval, even though she'd forgiven him. Even if she somehow believed he was a hero. He nearly scoffed when she omitted his attempts to strangle her aboard the storm tossed boat and painted his character into something of a knight rather than a sarcastic arse. He was thankful, however, when she omitted their secret kiss.

As her tale drew to a close, finally having caught up to the present, the crowd picked up in a roar of appreciation and applause. Though they cheered her name, Elsa's eyes fell only on one quiet man. She saw his face during her tale, saw how guilt ridden he'd grown, watched how the Eofar citizens cast him looks of disgust and disdain. Though he was not apprehended, he had betrayed their trust, good wishes, and their hearts.

"I can't believe it!" Margery whistled, coming up to the hailed queen and interrupting her thoughts. "What a tale. I mean, when your dear sailor related your story to us it was pretty moving and persuasive, but hearing it from you! I feel so much love for you dear sister and your other friends! But that Hans! How horrible he was to you—I can hardly believe I thought you were in a relationship. I still can't fully understand why you've willing worked together all this time!"

Elsa blushed, unsure how to respond to such a forward, earnest statement. "A lot has changed since the shipwreck." She finally said, casting a fond look towards the infamous prince. Quite more than a lot. But she didn't need to explain her feelings to Margery. Or anyone for that matter. Even she wanted too, she didn't know if she could. They were too confusing, too new. But they were her own, and as complicated as they were, she knew they were true.

Hans met her gaze, a somber expression on his face. His eyes flickered over hers unsurely, deep in thought. As the people applauded louder, demanding the queen's attention once again in a new wave of weeping and apologies, Hans ducked out of the large crowd and headed down an alley. His cheeks burned and eyes downcast, slipping through jostling shoulders and avoiding unfavorable glares like an unwanted cat in the night.

Elsa eyes found the soft auburn hair wandering away. Heart nearly snapping as she recognized he was in pain, she knew she had to follow him. She excused herself from the fawning weeping crowds, surrendering the weight of their adoration to the teetering Agust. He bore it graciously, able to stand against anything as long as Abbie's hand remained in his.

"Hans!" Elsa called, running after the retreating prince. He stopped at the end of the alley, the same alley they escaped through the night before. Though he faced away from her, fixed on the open field and the woods beyond, he allowed her to catch up.

"This can't work." Hans said quietly, eyes still downcast. "It's too complicated."

"This whole journey has been complicated." She replied, reaching for his hand. He faced her, cheeks red and eyes brimming.

"Did you not hear yourself? I'm the villain in your story! In your kingdom!" Hans cried, pulling out of her grasp and turning away. Tears were a level of vulnerability he was not yet willing to share. If he let himself be that weak, allowed her to pick him up when he fell, he'd never be able to stand again. At least not without her. "This—this can't happen. It's doomed."

"I'm the Queen." Elsa asserted, throwing the weight of her title behind a selfish decision for the second time in her life. The first had been when she closed the doors of her castle. She prayed this time it was a good decision. "If I say you are pardoned, if I say you are loved, you will be welcomed."

Hans turned towards her, eyes wide and wet. "You may decree it, your highness, but laws don't change the hearts of people. I can't go somewhere I am reviled. I can't go somewhere I am ashamed. Don't ask this of me."

"Hans," Elsa said slowly, heart growing heavy. "You said you belong nowhere, that nobody needs you. But that's not true. Not anymore." She reached for his hand, tentitivley this time. Her fingers clung to his loosely, allowing him the chance to break away or firmly grasp. Hans looked away but remained rooted. Hearing those words—hearing Elsa say those words—were more powerful than she knew.

"What I feel for you is too new to put any definitive label on," she continued quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "But what I do know is that I need you to be with me right now." She looked up at him, a hopeful, teary smile plastered on her face. "That I want to try."

"How can you want to try something you know will fail, that you know will hurt and break you again." Hans whispered, the 'you' in his statement both second and first person. He looked up at her, the tears finally falling in unison with hers. "And that breaking this time will finally be too much for your back, your conscience, and your heart to bear?"

Elsa laughed in surprise, the tears still dripping down her face. She knew it was inappropriate, but she couldn't help herself. "Hans, that's where you're wrong!" She cried, fully grasping his rough hands. "You don't know if it will fail."

Hans choked on a sob and pulled her into a tight hug. His body shook against hers, riddled with worry, love, guilt, and forgiveness. He rubbed his salt streaked face against her platinum hair, the cool sensation comforting against his too warm blush. Everything about her made him feel whole, made him feel human. With her in his life, maybe he could become a hero.

Unburying is face, he bent his nose towards hers, hazel eyes staring dependently—hungrily— into azure.

"May I kiss you?" He breathed, breath pleasantly hot against her frosty face.

"You may."

Their lips crushed into each other, open and welcoming. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her from the ground and into his arms. As Elsa had stated, he was not completely sure what his feelings were. But also as she stated, he was willing to try. Though his emotions were new and confusing, the love he felt in her company, in her embrace, was enough to wash away his cumbering guilt.

Elsa had forgiven him. It was high time he forgave himself.

Breaking away for air and setting the queen down, they remained holding each other, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let the moment end and face their new beginning. But one thing still nagged in the back of Hans's mind, and though he had surrendered the problem up to his loving benefactor, it was still an issue they should discuss sooner than later.

"Hey, Elsa," he asked with a worried laugh, "What are we going to tell Anna?"

The queen's eyes snap open. "Oh shit."

* * *

**One more chapter + epilogue on the way! Hope you guys have enjoyed! Stay tuned~~~**


	12. Epilogue

"The boat is here!" The cry resounded from the Eofar docks and into Elsa's quarters in Margery's inn. "The travel boat is here!"

Elsa's eyes snapped open from her near-noon sleep. She was exhausted from the festivities of the past two nights, but the exclamation rejuvenated her. Nearly stumbling from the bed, she tore from the breezy room and ran down barefoot to the docks below.

"It's here!" She repeated, seeing the sails of a large boat cresting the horizon. She turned towards the young sailor who spotted the ship and began cheering alongside him. She was finally going to start her journey home.

By the time the boat finally settled into port, Hans and Agust had been collected—Agust from a midmorning stroll with Abbie and Hans from Margery's kitchen. The Southern Isle's prince rarely ventured far from the inn since the revelation of his past, and if he did it was always by Elsa's side. The queen felt bad for revealing his crimes to the citizens of Eofar, but the story would not have worked without a villain, even though his betrayal felt haphazardly thrust into the story. But that was all in the past. Hans was no longer a villain to her—he was something more, something she couldn't just yet describe. But whatever it was, it made her happy.

"Finally." Hans sighed, gently placing an arm around Elsa's shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if they encountered a storm themselves."

"Hans!" Elsa scolded, elbowing him in the side.

"Genuine!" He insisted with a dramatic ouch. "I was being genuine this time." She smiled at him, pleasantly surprised. "Kinda."

Elsa rolled her eyes, but she didn't step away from his half hug, instead reaching up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. Hans blushed happily, an embarrassed smile spreading across his features.

Agust looked at them, a mix of disapproval and sickness on his face. The sailor hadn't taken their new affections too well, but Elsa was adamant. It was not a relationship she wanted to hide, and there was no real reason to. The only way her and Hans could start a healthy friendship—and maybe something more—was if they were honest with one another and the world.

"Cristobal!" Margery cried as the boatmen came ashore, running to a sea tanned man wearing a three-point hat. The thick captain caught her in his arm, effortlessly lifting and giving her a loving spin.

"Father!" Abbie cried, running after her mother. Breaking from his embrace, Cristobal wrapped his arm around his daughter, pulling the reunited family into a warm hug.

"It is good to be back!" He boomed, white teeth flashing brightly. "It is good to be home." As the crew began unloading their haul and trades, Cristobal made his way down the docks, heading towards his long awaited home. Elsa looked at Margery expectantly, wanting to commune with the captain immediately. She was a bit reserved, however, since the man had just arrived and wanted to spend some time home.

"Uh, Cristo," Margery interjected, steering her husband away from the inn's stairs and towards the Arendellens, "There are some visitors the town would like you to meet."

Cristobal looked the three over, a smile on his face but eyes steely. "Visitors indeed. And where might you all be from?"

"We were in a shipwreck, Captain." Elsa began, holding his gaze. "We were given refuge and promised safe passage home on one of your travel boats."

"And I'm the one obliged to give this passage, I presume?" Cristobal mused, looking at Margery with a bit of contempt.

"Cristo," she pleaded approaching her husband with affection. "Don't be sour. Just wait till you hear about them! You'll jump back into that boat when you do!"

"Aye?" He looked back to the three castaways, eyes narrowed judiciously. "Let's hear it, then."

After a quick explanation of her royal status, Cristobal was all smiles and hand kisses. Eager to assist a stranded queen (with the promise of a hefty payment for both him and the island, as well as an open trade relationship), he agreed to give them passage at dawn the following morning.

"You have to give me at least a day in my own bed, with my family and wife's cooking." He compromised. "Then we can be off."

Though wishing to leave this minute, Elsa had agreed, fully knowing the pangs of missing loved ones herself. The captain deserved to spend some time with his family before sailing out into the unforgiving sea again.

"It's settled then!" Margery clapped happily, ushering her husband towards the house once again. "Now before you set sail tomorrow, Cristo," she murmured quietly, guiding him with a hand on his shoulder. "There are a few things about these dear folk you might want to know…"

"I guess this will mean goodbye." Abbie said to Agust quietly.

"Not till tomorrow!" The red head exclaimed, grabbing both her hands. "We've still got all of today!"

"You're being uncharacteristically positive." Hans interjected. Agust's face reddened with a sneer.

"This doesn't have to be goodbye." Elsa said smiling at the young sweethearts. "After all, Arendelle will need a trustworthy sailor to head up our trade relationship with the Eofar citizens."

Agust's blush deepened, but for different reasons. With a hesitant smile he asked, "Are you asking me—?"

"Who else has more experience with these people and their island than you?"

Abbie and Agust gasped in surprise, ecstatic and relieved all at once. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!" Abbie squealed. She turned to Agust, arms out to wrap him in an excited hug, but without thought or warning the red head shot forward and kissed her lips.

Now it was Elsa's turn to gasp in surprise as Hans laughed heartily. The red blush crept all the way to the tips of Agust's ears by the time they broke apart, a silly smile of adoration and embarrassment stretched across his face. Abbie covered her mouth with her dark nails, stifling a girlish giggle as dark purple blossomed across her own face.

Seizing advantage of the romantic situation, and not wanting to miss a chance to be a glory hog, Hans pulled Elsa towards him in a tango-esque spin and planted his own kiss on the queen's radiant face. He laughed mischievously as Agust's red turned a bit green.

"Some things I will never understand." The sailor exasperated.

Cristobal was not too pleased to learn about Elsa's magic, but through the testimonies of his wife, daughter, and the town's butcher (who's opinion he apparently valued the most) he upheld his agreement to give the three castaways safe passage back home. Providing Elsa demonstrated some of her magic, first.

"It's just like the world up North!" He exclaimed, gently catching the snowflakes that fell in his calloused hands.

When tomorrow finally came, the trio headed to the boat, small carry-ons of gifted clothes and trinkets from the Eofar citizens clutched possessively in their hands.

"I guess I'll be seeing you soon, sailor." Abbie purred into Agust's ear as she said goodbye, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before backing away from the dock. The kiss did not go unnoticed this time. Her father's glare burned into the back of the young sailor's head. Agust turned around with a dopey grin, gaze suddenly locked with the incredulous captain. The young sailor visibly gulped. Hans laughed with amusement. This was going to be a fun ride home.

When the citizens finally released Elsa from the adoring clutches and exhausted their thousands upon thousands of goodbyes, the queen, with her southern prince in tow, finally boarded the boat to sail to home.

XXX

Elsa leaned against the boat rails, staring into the churning waves of the dark sea. They were calmer this time around, all their energy directed in guiding her home. The wind pulled gently through her loose hair and filled the sails like balloons. It was clear and beautiful, the sky full of more stars than she remembered possible. Why hadn't the trip back from the Southern Isles been this smooth?

"Cold night."

"I hadn't noticed." She replied with a weak smile, gingerly accepting the burlap blanket Hans wrapped around her shoulder. She grabbed the folds and pulled them close. Though the cold had never bothered her, Hans had fostered her love for warmth. "Thank you."

"What are you doing out here?" Hans asked, finding the hand she still laid upon the rail. "We will be home tomorrow." She replied, eyes still captured by the great expanse of glittering starlight. It refracted of the lapping waves, filing the sea with a mirrored sky. It was as if they were flying.

"Yes." Hans agreed, giving her hand a press. "And the crew is throwing us a last night voyage party, remember? So I ask again, why are you out here all by yourself?"

"Have you thought on the past two weeks at all?" She countered, turning suddenly to him, eyes reflecting stars of her own. He felt his knees grow weak as he looked into those bright orbs, filled with life, light, and his new favorite color.

"How do you mean?" It was all he could manage.

"None of this," she elaborated, gesturing between the two of them, "would have happened had we not run into that storm. Had I delayed my voyage either way by a day, we would have been in Arendelle this whole time, you in some sort of reform prison and I busying myself with royal duties, living our lives none the wiser of the chance of—of the new life we missed."

"I'm pretty content not being in jail." Hans mused, leaning the small of his back against the rail. He stared at a sight more beautiful than the horizon.

"I can see that." She replied with a soft, smiling blush. However, the warm bliss was quickly overcome by the morose thoughts that were clinging to her mind. "But when I think of that twist in our story, in our lives, I can't help feeling guilty."

Hans felt a shiver of fear run down his back. "For what?" It was difficult to say more with his heart lodged in his throat.

"For being happy for the storm!" Elsa cried, tears in her eyes. "All those men, my men, died! It was a catastrophe! Yet here I am feeling glad it happened because—because—!"

Hans wrapped his arm around Elsa and pulled her close. She cried softly into his shoulder, fingers clasping the loose cotton of his shirt. The apprehension fell from his chest, allowing him to breathe easy once again. Elsa was not having second thoughts about a relationship with him. But she was conflicted and dealing with survivor's guilt. He'd always pursued and embraced his survival by any means necessary. He was a selfish man, a cruel man. But Elsa…Elsa helped him to realize these things, to see himself in a new critical light, to want to work to change, to make himself better. From this point on, he would no longer degrade and condemn himself for his ugly sides. Instead, he would work to change the things that bothered him in order to be a man of whom he could be proud.

"Let's have a funeral for them." Hans whispered, gently pushing her back a half step. "We can't spend our lives hating ourselves for surviving, for being able to live. But we can honor those that have passed."

Elsa gave a shaky sigh and nodded her head in agreement. "I'll ask Agust and the crew to join us. I'm sure he'd want to be a part of it, and they probably know some good prayers and songs for those lost at sea." Her parents' faces briefly flashed in her mind. Sighing out the last of her tears, she took a deep breath in of the crisp sea air and walked with Hans towards the presently merry mess hall.

The rest of the night was filled with the soft lyrics of "The Parting Glass", a song carried by wind and sea by a near perfect chorus of tenors, gruff bases, and one sole soprano.

XXX

Hans sat on a bench above deck helping one of the crew members repair fishing nets. It had taken a few tries, but with the skilled thatcher's direction and a bit of patience he'd finally gotten the hang of it. The constant looping, threading, and pulling of the fiber wires kept his mind calm and fidgety nerves occupied. According to the captain they were almost in Arendelle's seas. The idea of stepping out of the boat hand in hand with his renowned enemy made him increasingly nervous.

And Elsa's pacing was not helping matters.

"Would you stop?" He finally called, her nerves causing his to spike in agitation.

"I can't help it!" She hissed through her teeth as he neared, pointing at his aggressively. "And you're comments aren't making anything better!"

"I'm sorry." Hans sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The anxiety is killing me, too."

"At least you don't have to explain all this to Anna." She shot offhandedly.

"At least you don't have to be the one _explained _to Anna!" He countered.

"Oh, gosh Hans!" She exasperated, running her hands through formerly tidy hair. "What am I going to do?"

Before the prince could provide an answer, the lookout in the crow's nest above gave an animated cry. "Ship ahoy!"

"What color are they flying?" Cristobal boomed from the helm.

"Dark blue—and green!" Was the response.

Elsa jolted. "Ask him if there is a yellow crocus on the flag." She directed the captain. He raised his brow in confusion, the word foreign to him. "A flower?"

"Do I look like someone who spends his free time frolicking in the meadow?"

"It's my country's crest." She explained, growing frustrated. "Looks a bit like an arrowhead topped with three petals?"

A bit miffed at the command and confused by the description, Cristobal boomed the second question up to the crow. He did not attempt to hide his skeptical humor.

"I appreciate your faith sir," the crow retorted, "but even I can't spot an emblem like that from this far!"

The captain shrugged. "Why don't you stand at the prow and watch the sails yourself? You know this crest better than any of us."

Running up to the prow, Cristobal called after her with a hearty laugh. "Catch!" Suddenly a cylinder was flying at her. Caught off guard, she shot an icicle at it with a cry of surprise. It struck the spyglass and sent it flying overboard. Before Cristobal could even shout in alarm Hans caught the precious optic, lunging over the rail and nearly falling in. With a small scream, Elsa ran over and helped him steady both feet on the proper side of the boat.

Hans laughed over Cristobal's fuming swears and examined the telescope for cracks or ice damage. He put the contraption to his eye, zooming in and out on Elsa's face, a red mixture of embarrassment and mischievous laughs.

"Seems to work just fine." He confirmed, handing his new toy to the queen then playfully pulling it out of her reach. "Perhaps I should keep ahold of it."

Laughing, Elsa jumped to grab the spyglass from Hans's hand, only to find Agust snatched it first. "How about you leave this to a trained professional?" He said dryly, limping towards the prow while properly adjusting the scope. Cristobal sighed audibly, muttering that the pay better be worth this babysitting.

"Agust!" Hans gasped with feigned horror. "Did you just demean your queen?"

Agust turned around, aghast. "Oh goodness! A thousand apologies, your highness!" He stammered, face blooming. "I didn't mean—I would never intend—!"

"It's alright, Agust!" Elsa laughed, jabbing Hans flirtatiously with her elbow. "I'm glad to see you having some fun. We've been through too much to treat one another so stiffly and formally anymore." She looked between the boys, hoping they would catch her meaning.

"I show affection through ill-humor." Hans stated, giving the young sailor a wink.

Agust's blush deepened a bit, and he looked down, still fiddling with the telescope. "Sorry your—I mean, Elsa?" He blinked uncomfortably, the unattached name odd on his tongue. "Let's go see if the sails have our crest."

After several minutes of trading off and waiting for the ship to sail closer, the trio was finally able to spot a crest on the flag. And it was indeed a "yellow arrowhead with three petals".

It took little convincing to get the captain to hail the Arendelle boat. After all, a royal escort to the country would make anchoring at the port ten times easier.

By the time the ships met, it did not take long for the naval sailors to realize their queen was on board. After all, she was screaming "It's me, Elsa!" at the top of her lungs.

"By Jove, it's the queen!" The sailors cried in various phrases. "The queen is alive? I can't belive it!" The officers quickly boarded the Eofar vessel, paying little attention to anything other than their long-lost queen.

"Your majesty!" The Arendelle captain shouted, royal plumage sprouting from his hat as he made his way from his boat, practically leaving it in the hands of a deck boy. Every person of royal importance was now aboard with Elsa, inquiring how she got here, who these people were, why she disappeared, and her health. There was a sense of panic, relief, and celebration amongst the crew as they attempted to usher her from the Eofar ship.

"Wait a minute!" Cristobal shouted angrily, jumping down from the helm. It spun out of control until the frantic quartermaster could secure it. "Don't jump ship on me, your highness. Eofar is due compensation and your promises."

"And who is this?" The royal captain shouted in surprise.

"It's alright, captain." Elsa tried to soothe, grabbing the man's decorated shoulder. "He's one of the rescuer's giving me passage home. Let me explain what happened."

"Not that gruff fellow!" The officer boomed audaciously, seemingly surprised by some fault of neglect. "That—that villain!" With horror, Elsa realized he was pointing at Hans, who had wisely shuffled off to the side. Until now. "Men, secure this prisoner!"

Before Elsa could protest the men rushed Hans and wrestled him to the ground. It was a rough scuffle and as much as Hans did not like being manhandled, he conceded without much of a fight. His pride was hurt more than any welts those royal brutes could give, but obedience was key if Elsa was to regain control of the situation.

This was not how Elsa planned Hans appearance to go. It needed to be smooth and forward from the start. If he was treated as her prisoner rather than her guest, it could throw off the balance of his acceptance in Arendelle, and their relationship, forever.

"This way." The guard holding Han's arms growled, forcing him towards the ramp that connecting the two boats.

"Captain, stop!" Elsa shouted, voice unheard by the bewildered, attentive servants and guards. They flocked to her, asking her questions of her whereabouts, her health, her appetite, and filling her in on the many royal affairs and meetings she had missed, including her own funeral. Some even attempted to carry her away.

Hans winced as his arm twisted, trying to look back towards Elsa, who was still being swarmed by tenants and royal sailors. "It's okay Elsa!" He called, craning his neck in her direction. "I'll be fine."

"Don't address the queen!" Another guard spat, whacking the back of the disgraced prince's head.

Ice rose with the flurry of events, surging with Elsa's growing panic. Breaking free of the loyal, but crazed, swarm around her, she ran towards the determined guards, leaving icy footprints in her wake.

"Let him go!"

"But my queen," the head guard exclaimed in surprise, seeming to hear her for the first time. "He is an enemy of the country, a prisoner!"

"No." Elsa commanded, icicles dancing underneath the flesh of her palms. The power may always be there, but she did not have to let herself lose control. "I said let him go."

"Your highness!" The captain stammered, giving a quick bow and signaling for the guards dragging Hans away to stop. They did in fact stop, and even turned back around. But Hans was still held between their arms.

"The part about letting me go?" Hans asked, somewhat timidly. His reminder was ignored.

"Your majesty, please accept my pardons, but may I please ask for explanation?" The captain requested carefully, afraid to meet her eyes. He paused briefly but continued before she could answer. "This man is a prisoner, the enemy of Arendelle. He was responsible for a coup to assassinate you and your sister and conquer the our kingdom. He is a liar and a traitor and a fiend!"

"That's enough." Elsa interjected.

"You were sent on a diplomatic mission to retrieve a prisoner." The captain continued, now looking Elsa in the eyes. "When you failed to return, we were led to believe the worst. War with the Southern Isles was even discussed. We feared the prisoner and his people somehow kidnapped, shipwrecked, or killed you!"

"That's enough!" Elsa shouted, eyes blazing. "Your worries are understandable, but debased. I am here, alive and well, and can speak for myself." Elsa paused, teetering on the edge of her tale, unsure how to begin. Everyone was quiet, the eyes of two full crews all on her. She looked towards Hans, his big hazel eyes wide with anticipation, waiting to hear what she had to say, what she would reveal. All she could think of was that she loved him.

"Hans and I…" Elsa began, giving a small cough.

"Hans saved us all, captain."

Elsa, Hans, and the two crews whirled towards the voice. It was Agust.

"And you might be?"

"I am Agust, a private on the Queen's Royalty, a ship that sank two weeks ago when we encountered a storm between the Isles and Arendelle. Hans was a prisoner aboard, but because of his heroics Elsa and I are alive today. A lot has happened these past two weeks, captain. We've been through too much together to hold grudges." Agust looked at Hans and nodded a sign of forgiveness and respect.

Elsa smiled at the young sailor, a smile of pride and gratitude. Though she wanted her relationship with Hans to be an honest part of her reign rather than a secret affair, she was did not want to expose the details like this. That would be for another, more formal time. Hopefully soon.

"Release Prince Hans." Elsa ordered again, rediscovering her strength. "He is a hero and my guest. We will discuss the matters of my disappearance later. For now, take rest I am here and heading home."

The guards finally complied, releasing Hans who dramatically rubbed his arms and cast them dirty looks. Unabashed, he made his way towards Agust and gave him a firm handshake. "I knew you'd come around, kid." He said with a genuine smile. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well don't make me regret it." Agust replied sheepishly.

"And I wish the best of luck to you and Abbie."

Agust's head nearly exploded.

Coming around to Elsa's side, Hans smile at her from the corner of his eye.

It was decided that Elsa, Hans, and Agust would continue aboard to the port on the Eofar vessel in order to keep their promise and affirm their new alliance. The royal ship, a fast frigate, would return back to the fjords at full speed to give the message the queen was alive and returning…with honored guests. Elsa would finally be home in a few short hours.

"I believe I forgot to thank you, your highness." Hans said once the royal ship had detached and hoisted its sails.

"They didn't hurt you too much, did they?" She asked. He shook his head with a smile.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." He assured. "But for a moment there I was afraid you were going to get publically sentimental."

"You idiot." Elsa teased, rolling her eyes. "That's a message we can deliver another day."

"And what will that message be exactly?" Hans asked with a coy smile.

Grabbing Hans's collar, Elsa pulled her prince into a kiss.

"That I love you."

The blush that bloomed on Hans's face put Agust's to shame. He smiled dopily, lost for words for the first times in his life. But before his pause could give Elsa alarm he gave his response.

"Elsa, I love you too."

Smiles of adoration on both sides, eager and nervous for their future, their kiss resumed; a kiss filled with the meaning of love.

XXX

"She's here she's here she's here she's here!" Anna yelled, running down the near empty castle halls.

"Who's here?" Kristoff mumbled, rising from bed. Anna ripped the blinds to their room open, bathing the dark quarters in midday light.

"Elsa!" She exasperated, throwing herself on the rumpled sheets and pulling her husband out of bed. "Why are you still asleep!?"

"It's been a hard few—did you say Elsa has returned?" He stammered, coming out of his sleepy daze. "She's alive?"

"Yes!" Anna squealed with a smile so wide she nearly swallowed her joy filled tears. "The port guard just reported that she arrived on a foreign boat! Come on!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Kristoff ensured with a bewildered laugh, allowing his spritely wife to drag him through the castle still half dressed.

"My lord, your coat." A servant dutifully interjected, handing the stumbling blond a formal jacket. Anna would have dragged him out doors barefooted had one of the maids not shouted otherwise.

"I knew she was alive!" Anna cried all the way, ripping a black bonnet from her strawberry blonde hair. She'd refused to go into mourning, insisting that Elsa was still alive, that she could feel it in her heart. But the strength of the people, even Kristoff the last two days, had begun to wane. She'd been pressured to make an appearance the night before, to publically take up the mantle as the Regent and project ideas about Arendelle's way forward—about her possibly becoming queen and going to war with the Southern Isles! She'd done it all with tears in her eyes and gritting teeth, the only one who believed Elsa was not dead. She couldn't lose her sister to the sea as well, not after getting her back so soon. Thankfully the ceremonies and speeches had all been in vain, because Elsa had returned. She was alive.

She had so many questions to ask her sister. According to the naval guard, Elsa arrived on a different boat than which she departed, and in different clothes and company as well. What could that mean? Where had her sister been all this time? What had happened? But all these and more could and would wait until she first smothered her in hugs.

"Elsa!" Anna shouted loudly upon arriving at the port. She wagged Kristoff's hand, encouraging him to shout too. The Official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer laughed heartily, joining in his wife's gleeful shouts. He was beyond relieved his sister-in-law was alive.

"Wait for us!" Olaf called from behind, bobbling on the galloping Sven. "Ding-dong the Queen is back, the queen is back!" It was by a miracle the snowman was able to hang on, especially considering his arms weren't permanently attached to his round body. "Ding-dong the Queen is back, the queen is back!

"Anna? Olaf?" A voice shouted from a tall travel boat, rocking on slow fjord waves.

"Elsa! We're here! Come on, you guys!" Anna shouted with a wider smile, happy to see all her friends and family were here for the reunion. It was going to be terrific, magical, splendid, bright, and—!

"Hans?"

Anna jolted to a stop, seeing the old enemy freely, and a bit too confidently, coming ashore from the foreign boat. He gave her a queasy smile then reached back towards the boat, grabbing a hand to guide down the boarding ramp. Exiting the boat, hand in hand with Arendelle's most wanted, was Elsa.

"Anna!" Elsa greeted, breaking from the villain and running to her sister. She pulled Anna into a fierce, loving hug. "I missed you so much," she whispered into her ear, then stepping back, "All of you! I'm so sorry if I scared you."

"I'm so happy you're back!" Anna fought out, caught up in a whirlwind of confusing emotions.

Elsa reached back towards Hans, who still stood at the end of the plank, and motioned for him to come. Once he was by her side, he gave another bashful smile to the group.

"Hello, Anna—Kristoff—animals?" He tried sheepishly, roses blooming on his cheeks.

Olaf laughed gleefully, sliding off the reindeer and giving the queen his own icy hug. Sven snorted at Hans, the animal noise voicing the expressions of Anna and his master.

"I'm sure you have some questions." Elsa affirmed bashfully, looking away with a nervous glow. She looked back to Hans and boldly took his hand into hers. She gave it a squeeze then looked back to her family. "Prince Hans has been forgiven and is too live in the Castle as my guest. He and I…we all have much to talk about."

Anna's, Kristoff's, and Sven's simultaneously jaws dropped.

"Awe, their holding hands!" Olaf squealed, dancing and giggling. "I just love happy endings!"

* * *

**My last parting gift, the song "You and I – Reprise" from the musical Chess. This song, along with "Where I Want to Be" of the same musical, gave this fic life. If you want to view the song, I recommend a YouTube video called "Checkers part 16 of 16" with Josh Groban and Indina Menzel! Song ends around 4:30.**

**Thank you for reading and keeping me writing! So happy to have written and, more importantly, finished this piece.**

**The End**


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